PART II

It was awkward at first. He walked by my side in silence, and I cursed myself for having invited him. Now what? It was safe to say that my self-esteem had (unbelievably) improved a lot thanks to Pride's training, so I could carry a conversation — heck, I had barely stuttered before! I just… didn't know how to start.

Thankfully, he did that himself.

"Lovino," he called. When I looked at him, he coughed, a bit uncomfortable. "Why are you doing this?"

"D-Doing what?" I asked, confused.

"Well… helping me through this. I— I thought you hated me," he finished in a quiet whisper.

… what?!

"Hate you?" I almost yelled, a bit offended. "Why would you think that?"

"I— Well, it's just that—" He blushed a little as he spoke, and fuck, he was adorable. "I don't know," he sighed. "I guess it's that you always avoided me when we were hanging out with Feli, and didn't talked to me at all… Stuff like that."

I couldn't believe my ears. The idiot had actually managed to confuse a blatantly obvious crush with hatred? I felt myself blush as well as I looked down and kicked a pebble.

"I don't hate you, you fucking moron," I admitted quietly. Quite the opposite, I thought. I didn't say it out loud, of course. I still wasn't ready to admit that.

From then, we started to chat about this and that, about everything and nothing in particular. He actually laughed a few times and fuck, it was the most beautiful sound in the whole damn world. Everything was going wonderfully well… until a third person joined us.

"Carriedo!" someone called behind us, and I saw how Antonio's face fell, losing all the cheerfulness he had been recovering. "Hey, Carriedo!" the man insisted, rushing to us.

('Carriedo', by the way, was Antonio's second surname. Antonio Fernández Carriedo. Yes, second surname, because Spain is weird like that.)

I wondered who this man was. He clearly knew Antonio… and Antonio clearly didn't like him, judging by his expression. Despite that, I decided not to be prejudiced. Perhaps this man wasn't as bad as Antonio seemed to think—

"I heard your girl dumped you," he said, a mocking smirk plastered on his face.

Scratch that. The seven demons I was living with were nicer than this guy.

"Fuck off," Antonio grunted.

The man gasped. "Antonio!" he said, feigning horror. "Language! You're supposed to be an example for the kids!"

"We're not working right now, Sadik," the Spaniard replied, glaring at him.

So a co-worker, huh? I had found out through Feliciano that the job Antonio had gotten in my area was at a nursery. I could totally picture him surrounded by kids and laughing like an idiot at all their antics. That guy, Sadik… not at all.

"Come on now, don't look at me like that…" the asshole snickered, circling Antonio's shoulder with an arm and pulling him close. "I'm not that bad!"

"Yes you are," Antonio growled, pulling himself free. "Look, I really don't have the nerve right now to hear all your bullshit, so unless you want me to break your face—" He made a very dramatic pause, his glare sharpening. "—I suggest you get the fuck out of my sight."

… fuck, he could be scary! And here I thought he was all smiles and sunshine! I had never seen that side of him, and I found myself at a loss of words when facing it. (Also, maybe a teeny, tiny bit turned on.)

Thankfully, Antonio didn't have to break anyone's face: Sadik seemed to sense that he wasn't going to let him mock him anymore, and simply shrugged and walked away. Antonio, however, remained pissed off a little longer, cursing under his breath in quick Spanish.

"I'm sorry about that," I finally sighed, rubbing his tired eyes. "He works with me at the nursery, and he's a complete asshole."

"Yeah, I noticed," I agreed. "How's the nursery, by the way?" I asked then, hoping that the change of subject would cheer him up again.

Surprisingly, it did.

He started to ramble on and on about the kids he looked after, merrily sharing anecdotes of all the funny things they did and said. I was relieved when he started to laugh again, a bright smile on his face.

"You really like kids, don't you?" I asked when he ran out of stories.

"Yes, I do," he answered without an ounce of embarrassment. "I really want to have some of my own someday." When I snorted, he gazed at me, amused. "You don't?"

"First I'd need someone to have the kids with, don't you think?" I replied, making a face at the poor intensity of my love-life.

"Not really," he shrugged. "There's adoption, and single-parenting is very common nowadays."

"Ah, I— I wouldn't be able to do it on my own," I said, blushing. "I'd kill the kid in just two days."

"That's what you think now," he winked at me, "but one day it'll just grown in you."

I considered it for a moment. Maybe he was right… He was, after all, a couple of years older than me. Still, I couldn't see myself as a parent. Antonio? God, Antonio would be SuperDad! Me—? Not so much.

I was quick to change topic again.

Eventually, as we chatted and walked, we ended up reaching the more urban area. It wasn't dinner time yet, but after having been walking for a long while, we both were hungry and, against my will, we ate something in one of those terrible fast-food chain restaurants.

"I can't believe I'm eating this," I kept grunting as I chewed my burger. "I'm Italian — I know what good food is, unlike those stupid Americans. And you— you're Spanish; you should know, too!"

He only chuckled and kept eating.

When we were done and walked outside, I realized he was, once again, a bit downcast. He didn't look as incredibly depressed as when I had found him earlier, but he didn't look like his usual, cheerful self either. I knew I had to keep him distracted.

I was wondering what to say or do when I spotted a dance club on the other side of the road. I smiled and poked at Antonio.

"Wanna go there?" I asked, pointing at the club.

He didn't instantly answer. His thoughtful gaze was fixed on the door, and it remained there as he uttered an unsure 'I don't know…'.

"Oh, come on," I insisted. When I realized he was looking at the prices (twenty Euros getting in plus one drink — twenty freaking Euros!), I sighed and smiled at him. "Come on, Antonio. My treat."

Thanks to Greed's money management, I could afford it. His eyes finally stopped staring at the door to focus on me instead, as a small yet sincere smile appeared on his face.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

~{x}~

It wasn't working.

Sure, at first, Antonio had ordered his drink and had started to dance and mingle with the rest of the people, but it didn't take long for him to sit in a stool next to the bar. He barely looked at the people dancing; he didn't look anywhere. His sad eyes were lost somewhere on the floor. And I… I was sat next to him, desperately trying to think what was wrong.

Maybe being here reminds him of Emma, I thought. The first time I'd seen them together, after all, had been at a very similar place. It was safe to assume they went often. Fuck. If that was the case, it'd be tough to find a way to distract him from his thoughts. When I had seen the club, I'd thought that dancing would be the perfect cure. He surely liked dancing — he was Spanish, for fuck's sake! Maybe… Maybe it just was he didn't like the music being played—?

"I'm going to the toilet," he suddenly excused himself, leaving his empty glass on the bar as he made his way to the restroom.

Well, then. I had to try.

I pulled out my phone and sent a quick message to my brother:

Feli, what are Antonio's favourite songs?

He replied almost immediately:

Listening to, singing or dancing?

I typed 'Dancing' as I looked around, trying to find de DJ (a.k.a. the guy with a laptop and a random Spotify playlist). When I spotted him, I quickly walked towards him, as my phoned dinged every time Feli sent me the name of a song.

This had to work.

God, Karma, Mufasa or whichever mysterious force ruled the Universe — please, let it work.

…

Well, I had to pay the stupid DJ so he'd agree to play the list I gave him. If it didn't work now, I'd set the place on fire.

I was walking back to our seats when I saw Antonio was already there, not looking better than before. When I reached him, he gave me a weak smile.

"Hey," he said, "I was thinking maybe I should g—"

Just as he was finishing that hideous line, one of the songs started playing loudly. He quickly shut up, his eyes widening and his lips curling in a tiny smile.

"Nevermind. I'm going for a dance."

Phew! It had worked! I smiled as I watched him mingle with the other dancers, soon reverting to his vibrant, joyous persona. Fuck, I loved the sight. He was so damn beautiful! I found myself smiling fondly every time I caught sight of him in the middle of the crowd.

A couple of songs had played when he suddenly moved slightly away from the others; close enough to join the dance instantly if he wanted, yet far enough for me to completely see him.

And for him to see me, apparently.

He smiled at me as he gestured with his finger. Come here. I choked on my drink. Was he really asking me to go dance? I shook my head; he laughed and came to my side.

"Come on, Lovino," he chuckled as he grabbed my hand and pulled, making me stand up from the stool. "Come dance; it's fun!"

"I don't want to!" I protested, though I was most definitely smiling as I tried to fight him. Damn, the bastard was strong… "I'm a terrible dancer," I lied.

"I'll teach you," he replied, confident. When he realized he was going to take me nowhere just by pulling (because I had hooked my free hand to the bar, basically), he changed tactics: suddenly, he was on the other side, his hands around my waist as he pushed me towards the dance floor.

… well, fuck. My heart jumped in my chest at the contact, and I almost gave in. Almost. But my pride and stubbornness fought back (I could think of a certain albino back home who'd be terribly proud of me) and I resisted a little longer.

That is until Antonio, still laughing, landed a warm kiss on my cheek.

I stopped fighting then. I couldn't — all my blood was in my fucking face. The moment I could focus on something that wasn't the ghost touch of Antonio's lips, I was already in the middle of the dance floor. I sighed, resigned, as the bastard danced around me, teasing, trying to get me to follow his moves.

I ended up doing so, but not precisely because I wanted to. All of a sudden, when a very recognizable song started to play, I felt Antonio's body behind me, his chest fully pressed against my back as his hands kind yet firmly grabbed my wrists. He started to move the both of us, making us dance to the stupid song, singing loudly as he did so.

I briefly wondered if he could feel how fast my heart was beating, and if he'd be sober enough to realize it wasn't precisely because of a certain Spanish hit of the 90's.

~{x}~

It was late when we left. The night was chilly, but I felt warm — whether it was because of the alcohol or because of Antonio's proximity, I didn't know. We both were a bit tipsy, so we stumbled and tripped with our own feet quite often.

Antonio was happily blabbering about anything and everything that crossed his mind, making a lot of gestures and overexaggerating everything, sometimes playfully pushing me. He actually made me laugh a few times. The idiot.

However, he turned a bit more serious when we reached the place where I had met him before. "Lovino," he said, kindly. "I saw what you did back there."

"Hmm? What did I do?" I asked, feigning innocence.

"You know what."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I insisted.

"It's music related."

"You mean my terrible dancing to Macarena? Okay, I'll confess: can't stand the song."

He gasped, offended. "Don't you insult my culture like that!" He still laughed, though, and looked at me with a tender smile. "I saw you talking to the DJ just before all my favourite dance songs started to play. What an incredible coincidence, don't you think?"

Look at that, the bastard wasn't as oblivious as I thought.

"An incredible coincidence, indeed."

He cut me before I could add anything else:

"Thank you."

I blushed (as I had been doing for all the goddamn evening) and shrugged, not knowing what to say. Certainly not something clichéd like "you would have done the same for me". So I opted for shutting up.

He did the same for a while, until he broke the silence again:

"You know, Lovino," he said, thoughtful, "I had a very wrong image of you."

"As in…?" I asked, curious.

"As in… You're much nicer than I thought. I never imagined I could have such a great time with you."

Honest motherfucker. I blushed even more than before — my whole face burnt. In hindsight, I probably should have, I don't know, reconsidered my life choices, given than I didn't seem to cause a good first impression, but I really couldn't care less at the moment. Because, and that's what was important, Antonio had had such a great time. With ME!

I was still thinking what to reply to that when Antonio stopped walking. I was a bit confused at first, until I realized we were standing in front of my house. The magic was over.

"I guess this is it," Antonio smiled softly.

"Y-Yeah, so it looks like," I mumbled. "How are you going back home?" I asked a little after, suddenly remembering that he had to go all the way to Rome.

"Public transportation; there are still buses," he shrugged, as if he didn't care much. "I'll catch one."

"Okay, then." I bit my lip, unsure. "Have a safe trip."

I regretted it as soon as I said it. 'Have a safe trip'? Rome was barely half-an-hour away — what could possibly happen? I felt so stupid. Antonio, however, didn't seem to think that, for he simply chuckled.

"Thanks for today, Lovino," he said. "You really helped me."

His smile widened a little, turning shy. SHY. I never thought I'd ever use that word to describe Antonio, of all people. Huh. Looked like I was discovering new sides of him (surprise, surprise, I loved them all).

Then, he leant forwards and placed a soft, chaste kiss on my cheek.

"Well then," he cleared his throat, awkwardly, "I— I'll be taking off, now. Um— good night."

"Night," I answered, so low I wasn't sure he'd heard me.

He turned around and started to walk away. I stared at him, longingly, lost in thought—

—until I heard a low 'psst!'. I flinched, startled, and when I looked around myself, I spotted Pride and Lust, hidden between some bushes, maniacally waving their hands around and mouthing something.

… fucking idiots. They didn't need to hide — they could just not show themselves to Antonio. I suppose they weren't happy if they didn't do something embarrassingly stupid at least once a week. Anyway, it took me a moment to understand their message: they were pointing rapidly at Antonio, mouthing 'Don't let him go!'.

I don't know why I obeyed them, honestly. I had more than enough valid reasons not to. But I suddenly found myself rushing after Antonio, yelping a (quite pathetic) "Wait!" as I reached to stop him.

He turned around, surprised, and looked quite astounded when his gaze landed on our clasped hands. Because yes, I had quite impulsively grabbed his hand when I had reached for him. Crap. Then he looked at me again, and I felt myself (yet another time) blushing madly.

"I, um…" I stuttered as I lowered my gaze, unable to meet his own. God, I was making such a fool of myself! Everything had been (almost) perfect up until this point, and now I had screwed up. He was going to laugh at me and push me away; then go back home and have another beautiful girlfriend in a matter of days. I panicked, still unable to say anything. "I— I—"

I couldn't utter anything else when I felt him move; only that he didn't move away from me, as I had feared, but closer. Closer, closer, until our chests were practically touching. While one of his hands still held mine, the other reached up, shyly, until his fingertips slowly stroked my cheek. I almost had my breath taken away by that simple action. He whispered my name. I shivered out of the gazillions of emotions I was feeling.

His fingers reached my chin and softly made me raise it.

I caught a glimpse of his oh-so-green eyes before he tenderly pressed his lips against mine.

~{x}~

That did leave me breathless.

In fact, it did more than just that.

My stomach twisted. My legs started to shake. My heart began to beat so damn fast I feared it would pop out of my chest. My brain straight up melted. It took me a moment to react, but soon I was kissing him back a bit clumsily. My free hand fisted the front of his shirt and he moved closer, pressing his body against mine; the hand that had been resting on my cheek moved to my hip, his arm wrapping around my waist and holding me tight, as if he didn't want to let me go.

I didn't want to let him go either.

Sadly, it had to end. (Not that we wanted to; it was just this old habit we had of, you know, breathing.) He pulled away, letting go of my waist —which prompted me to let go of his shirt—, and took a small step backwards, leaving some room for us to breathe. He didn't let go of my hand.

I tried to avoid his gaze, but I couldn't help it: my own eyes betrayed me and kept searching for his face. And when I saw it, I couldn't look away. His cheeks were coloured a lovely shade of red, which only made his green eyes stand out more; his parted lips were shiny and so fucking inviting as they twisted into a shy smile.

There it was again, that timid side of him I never thought he could possibly have. I was glad he did, though. It was nice knowing that he could be just as shy as I was. I realized then, as I stared at his beautiful face, that I was falling even deeper.

"On second thought…" he whispered, breaking the silence. His voice sounded hoarse; when he gulped, I was mesmerized by the movements of his throat. "I don't really have to go back… I mean, there's nobody waiting fo—"

I didn't let him finish. My lips searched for his again, eagerly, and he responded with the same need. While the first kiss had been tender and sweet, this one was quickly growing desperate and needy. He finally let go of my hand, but only so he could wrap his arms around my body and press me against him; I wrapped my own around his neck as I deepened the kiss.

It ended as abruptly as it had started. I broke free from his embrace and took his hand in mine. "Come," I panted as I pulled him back to my house.

He followed without hesitation.

I barely managed to unlock the front door, too distracted by Antonio's warm lips on my neck. The moment we finally slipped inside, he banged the door and pressed me against it as he devoured my mouth, kissing me almost furiously.

"B-Bedroom," I managed to gasp between two of his passionate kisses, moaning when his hands slid under my shirt and caressed my stomach and chest.

We stumbled together towards my room, leaving a trail of discarded clothes behind us. I fell in the middle of the hallway as I struggled to take my shoes off; he laughed breathlessly and crawled on top of me, quickly pecking my lips before attacking my neck and chest, all this while helping me out of my damn shoes.

I was a panting, desperate mess when we finally reached the bedroom. Antonio seemed to be pretty impatient as well; he attempted to took full control, and I let him.

I let him touch, kiss, bite me wherever he wanted. I let him roughly push me on the bed and gently crawl over me. I let him hold my hands over my head as he made goosebumps appear all over my body with his expert touch.

From then on, everything spiralled into a crazy haze.

He gasped my name; I screamed his.

And when he collapsed on top of me, panting and sweating yet satisfied, I let one of my hands stroke his back as another played with his soft hair, and my afterglow-numbed brain could only reach one conclusion: that was the single most perfect moment of my entire life.

~{x}~

My body was still tangled with Antonio's when I woke up the next morning. I blushed when the memories from last night came to my mind, but I couldn't prevent a genuine, happy smile from showing up on my face. Content, I dragged myself closer to Antonio, hugging his waist and resting my head on his chest.

Not too long after, he groaned in awakening and I looked at him as he slowly opened his eyes. He looked confused, at first, until his gaze landed on me. His eyes widened as he, too, remembered; but immediately after, his expression softened and he smiled at me.

"Hey," he muttered, still half-asleep.

"Hi," I shyly smiled back.

A hand lazily started to caress my back. He yawned and closed his eyes, sinking a little more in the mattress.

"What time is it?" he asked.

I fought the urge to reply "Summer time!" (oh, come on — as if you don't say "Baby don't hurt me" when someone asks "What is love?") and squirmed around until I could reach my phone.

"Half past ten."

"Too early," he mumbled. "Mind if I sleep some more?"

"Of course not. I'm getting up now, though. Are you going to want something for breakfast? Coffee?" I offered.

"Coffee is nice. I like coffee…" he sighed, already more asleep than awake.

Incredibly adorable motherfucker… I couldn't control myself: I leant forward and pecked his cheek. I could've done much more than that, but I didn't want to abuse of my luck, so (a bit reluctantly, I'll admit) I got out of bed, got dressed, and went to the kitchen. To my utter annoyance, there was someone waiting for me there.

"Well, Lovino, aren't you a loud one," Lust greeted me. The bastard was leaning against the wall, arms crossed before the chest and a very perverted smirk on his face.

"Shut up," I growled.

"And lucky, too," he added, ignoring me. "That Antonio of yours… Hey, mind if—?"

"Stay the fuck away from him," I cut him, menacing.

He pouted (fucking pouted!), but let out a resigned sigh.

"Then don't ever ask me to spice things up between the two of you."

I stared at him, frowning. Had he—? Oh, he'd better fucking not! I'd kill him if he had. That long ride to the Vatican to ask for some Holy Water? I'd do it.

"Yesterday…" I said, slowly, "did you…?" I let it hanging, hoping he'd understand what I meant. And he did, oh yes, I knew he did. But of course, being the asshole he was, he tilted his head and waited for me to finish my question. I glared at him. "Did you… manipulate us in any way? Like you said you could do with Emma?"

"Didn't," he answered, shaking his head. "Everything that happened was just the two of you."

I was relieved to hear that. I'd been suspicious since… since Antonio and I started making out, actually. It felt too good to be true, the way he was clinging to me, and I just assumed Lust was working his magic.

But he hadn't.

Antonio had been himself the whole time. He had wanted to do all that with me, for real. Just the thought made me feel like smiling as an idiot. (I didn't, though, because Lust was still in front of me and I'd die before giving him teasing material.)

"Are you really capable of influencing people like that?" I asked, curious. Not that I didn't believe him, but it did sound a bit surreal. Said the guy living with seven demons, yes. Shut up.

He narrowed his eyes and gave me a downright nasty look, his smirk growing bigger.

"Oh, you have no idea what I'm capable of," he purred.

For my own sanity, I decided to end the conversation there and then. Instead, I started to make the coffee I had offered Antonio. I was halfway through when he entered the kitchen, still half asleep. The moment he did, my eyes were glued to him. He hadn't bothered to fully dress, instead wearing just his shirt (unbuttoned, might I add) and his boxers. It was quite the sight. I saw Lust in the corner of my eye, and given the way he was staring at Antonio, he clearly agreed with me.

It took me a moment to realize Antonio was talking to me.

"… huh? Sorry?"

"I asked if I can borrow your charger," he chuckled. "My phone ran out of battery at some point yesterday."

"Oh! Yes, sure! There's actually one over there— No, to your left— yes, that one," I instructed.

"Thanks," he smiled as he plugged his phone.

Blushing, I turned my back to him and pretended to be ordering some of my cooking books.

I was startled when I felt his arms wrapping around my waist and his chest pressing against my back. Soon, he rested his head on my shoulder.

"What'cha doing?" he asked.

"Um— nothing," I answered (which was the truth), feeling half of my blood going to my face and the other half to… another place.

"Hmm." He shifted and pressed his lips to my shoulder. "Last night was great," he said, the sound of his voice muffled against my shirt.

"It— It was," I agreed, feeling light-headed.

He moved again, this time to softly kiss my neck, effectively sending a shiver down my spine. Then he kissed it again. And a few more times after that.

"A-Antonio…" I moaned when he started to suck.

I was completely ignored. He didn't stop ravishing my neck — hell, he even slid a hand under my clothes! I wasn't going to complain because I'd be damned if it didn't feel absolutely glorious, but I didn't understand why, all of a sudden, he was behaving so lustfu— Oh.

OH.

… motherfucker…

I twisted my head just enough so I could send a scorching glare towards Lust. He met my eyes for a brief moment, just enough so he could smirk at me, and then focused his entire attention on Antonio again.

And Antonio seemed to want my attention, for he took his hand to my cheek and forced me to look at him. Not losing a single second, he left my neck and kissed my mouth instead. Well, fuck. And I had thought that last night kisses had been hungry… He was practically devouring me.

The position I was in was a bit uncomfortable for kissing (I knew my neck would end up hurting if I kept it twisted like that a bit longer), so I squirmed and somehow managed to turn around without breaking the kiss. Antonio seemed to like it: he groaned and pressed himself closer to me, circling my waist with his strong arms. For a moment, I thought he was going to lift me up, put me on the worktop and go back to what we had been doing last night. However, just when I noticed I hadn't breathed in a while and I was starting to run low on oxygen, he reduced the intensity of the kiss until completely breaking it. He remained where he was, though, so close to me that I felt his hot breath on my lips.

"Probably not the best time for this, huh?" he chuckled breathlessly, pressing his forehead against mine.

"You think?" I replied, sarcastic but unable to hide a flustered smile when my eyes met his.

He laughed again and pecked me on the lips before pulling away.

"I'm going to get the rest of my clothes," he said. "And, um, I'll join you for breakfast then."

"Okay."

He gave me one last shy smile before leaving. Poor bastard was probably wondering what had gotten into him. I would have, too, if I didn't know already. The moment I knew Antonio wouldn't hear us, I turned and glared at Lust with all my might.

"Asshole."

"Come on, don't act as if you didn't enjoy it," he chuckled.

"So that's what you're capable of, huh?" I grunted.

"And so much more, Lovino. So. Much. More."

That made me blush. Thankfully, the coffee pot started to whistle and saved me from carrying on with that conversation. Also, Antonio came back soon after (fully dressed, sadly) and Lust had no choice but to go silent again.

I handed Antonio a cup of coffee and he thanked me with a smile. I knew I shouldn't, but I started to think… that I could get used to that. To tranquil mornings, calmly having breakfast, Antonio and I, happy. Together.

… oh my god, I was such a love-struck moron…

We chatted a bit as we had breakfast, trying to avoid certain topics… like Emma or us. He told me about his childhood in Spain, the college grant that had taken him to Italy, and his decision to remain here. I told him every single anecdote in which Feli had done something silly or utterly stupid.

I couldn't tell how long it had been before Antonio stood up, going over to his phone, which was still charging. He hadn't checked it out since last evening, so I didn't complain or anything (though I may have wanted to).

Then I heard him gasp.

When I turned to look at him, I saw he was staring at his screen with eyes wide open, his face pale and shocked. I frowned, especially when I saw Lust was peeking over his shoulder and he had a similar reaction.

"What's the matter?" I asked after I realized Antonio was too struck to move (I could've sworn he even stopped breathing!).

He flinched when he heard me, effectively kicked out of his stupor, and gave me the fakest smile I'd ever seen. It didn't suit him.

"Nothing," he said. I saw right through his lie, but didn't let it show. "I, um, I'm going to head back home." He fidgeted as he spoke, clearly nervous. "My— My flatmate might be worried."

Lame excuse, if I ever heard one. I decided not to pry, though: he surely had his reasons not to tell me what was wrong… and Lust was going to tell me anyway.

So I walked him to the door, where he awkwardly said goodbye and rushed down the street. I frowned, worried, as I watched him leave. That was an odd behaviour. Thankfully, I had a very handy demon who knew what was going on.

"Speak," I ordered as I walked into the kitchen.

Lust made a face.

"What's the magic word?"

"Speak or I'll drive all the way to the Vatican to get Holy Water blessed by the Pope himself," I threatened.

He seemed to find that funny, if that badly-hidden smile was real. However, he went serious soon after, and gave me a worried look. Almost as if he knew I wasn't going to like what he was going to tell me.

And boy, was he right…

"He had like seventeen missed calls."

Huh.

"From—?" I asked, knowing I wasn't going to like the answer.

"… Emma."

Huh.

I crossed my arms and leant against the worktop as I mused over the info. Apparently, as I was with Antonio trying to cheer him up, eventually making it and sleeping with him, his more-than-recent ex-girlfriend had been calling him like a madwoman. What for, though? People only call their exes for two reasons: they're madly drunk or want to beg for a second chance.

I so hoped it was the first one.

~{x}~

It was almost lunch-time when my phone rang. I groaned as I dragged myself out of bed (I was exhausted, alright?), ready to murder whoever was on the other end. I decided not to, though, when I saw my brother's name on the screen. He was a little pain in the ass, but he was still my baby brother.

"What?" I snapped as I picked up.

"Hello, Lovi!" Feli's cheerful voice reached me. "How are you?"

"Fine until you called."

"Mean."

"Always. What do you want?"

"Yes! Um… I was wondering if maybe you've seen Antonio recently—?"

Okay, I wasn't expecting that. For a moment I considered lying; I was my private life, after all. Then again, maybe there was an important reason why he asked. Maybe, I don't know, Antonio had been abducted by the mafia and Feli was tracking down his last movements to fight off an entire criminal organization and get his friend back. You never know.

"Why?" I asked.

"Well, you see, he and Emma broke up yesterday…" he started to explain, sounding a bit uncertain. "And I know Antonio works close to where you live, and that's where he was yesterday afternoon, and well, he was feeling quite low, and—"

"Just make your point already," I growled, cutting him.

"Okay, okay! The thing is that he's come back home this morning, and now he's having a big, big argument with Emma…"

"I-I don't see how I'm involved in all of this," I said, hoping he hadn't noticed my slight stutter.

"Well, aren't you the whore Emma is screaming about?"

"Excuse me?" I yelled, indignant.

"She's yelling at Antonio. Like, a lot. Something about breaking up with her and not waiting even a day before fucking a cheap whore."

"…"

"So? Is she talking about you?"

"I— may have slept with Antonio," I quietly admitted.

"Knew it! How was it?"

"I'm not going to tell you that!"

"Oh, alright, Mr. Grumpy." I could hear him roll his eyes. "Anyway—"

"How's Antonio?" I impulsively interrupted him again.

"Antonio? To be honest, he doesn't look very good."

"Okay. Thanks, Feli. Bye."

Before he could reply anything, I hung up and left my phone on the nightstand before dropping myself on the bed and burying my face on my hands.

Absolutely fantastic.

I had done precisely what I had wanted to avoid after Lust's offer a while back. True, I hadn't been the cause of his breakup, but I had hurt him nonetheless. Or wasn't he suffering right now because of me? Because of me, any chance he may have had of going back with Emma had vanished.

He wanted to, I knew he did. He had told me while we strolled around the park. It had taken him a while, but he ended up admitting that, despite having realized he didn't really love her, he did like her — liked being with her, spending time with her, making her laugh. Liked her so much he would gladly give themselves a second chance.

Someone sat by my side and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me against his own.

"Sssh, it's alright," I heard Lust's soothing voice.

Only then I realized I was crying.

"N-No, it's not," I replied in between hiccups. And then I told him everything, from my chat with Antonio the previous day to my brother's call. "It's so not okay."

He sighed and waited until I had calmed down to speak.

"Lovino, he never did anything he didn't want to," he said, soft yet stern at the same time. "You have nothing to blame yourself for."

"Still…"

"I barely know him, but if he's the way I think he is, he'll blame himself, not you."

That made me feel a bit better.

I still felt like crap, though.

It didn't help that, two days later, I stumbled upon Antonio while I was grocery shopping. I froze on the spot when I saw him. It took him a moment to see me, but when he did, he barely looked at me for more than two seconds before turning on his heels and leaving.

I rushed back home after that, not caring that I hadn't bought everything I needed, and cried on Lust's shoulder for hours.

~{x}~

"Lovino, please calm down," Pride groaned.

I didn't listen to him and I kept pacing around the living room, angrily waving my hands and kicking furniture as I vented, Pride and Lust watching me from the couch. I was so— angry. And I didn't even know why! I think I was fed up with sorrow, and my subconscious decided to cope with life with anger.

"I don't want to," I snarled before going back to my rant.

"Where's Wrath when you need him?" Lust muttered, looking around himself with an annoyed expression. "Come on, Lovino, calm down!" he added, this time talking to me. "You're not going to solve anything like this."

"Maybe not, but I do feel better," I replied, stubborn as I was.

"It's so unawesome," Pride objected. "You should try other things. Like yoga."

Well, wasn't he helpful. I gave him the middle finger and he gasped, offended.

"I agree with him," Lust said. "You shouldn't let anger get the best of you. Why don't you go out?"

"Go out?" I snorted. "Yeah, sure. Because the risk of meeting Antonio is so low!" I glared at him. "I can't do like you guys, hide behind a fake name and—"

"It's not fake," Lust cut me off. I would've kept talking, but there was something in his voice that stopped me from doing so. He sounded mad. He looked hurt. I'd never seen that kind of expression on his face before.

"W-What?"

"It's not fake," he repeated, eerily calm. "Francis—that's my name. Or it was… back when I was still human."

The last bit was almost a whisper, but I caught it nonetheless. I looked at him with eyes wide open, my anger completely washed away as deep curiosity took over.

"Back when what?"

His gaze, which had gotten lost on the wall behind me, suddenly snapped and focused on my eyes. It sent shivers down my spine. It was just so… so sad.

"When we were human," Pride answered instead of him.

"All seven of you?" I asked, awestruck, as I took a few steps back and sat heavily on a chair.

"It was a long time ago," Lust sighed. "We had come to this house on vacation, just for a fortnight. Then, one night there was a fire. None of us made it out." He made a face as he remembered. "We don't know how or why, but a few days later we woke up… like this."

That explained a lot of things. Like why they were bound to the house, or why Wrath had once mentioned Pride being German. I stared alternately from Lust to Pride and from Pride to Lust, completely at loss of words.

"So you all have, like, human names?" I finally managed to ask. Fuck, my throat was dry!

"I'm Francis, and he's Gilbert," Lust answered.

And then they talked to me about them before they got their demon status.

Lust (Francis) was kind of the centre of the group. His second cousin was Sloth (Herakles), his best friend was Pride (Gilbert), and his archenemy-but-very-close-friend-nonetheless was Wrath (Arthur). Greed (Vincent) was Pride's cousin; and Envy (Peter) and Gluttony (Alfred) were Wrath's little brother and cousin, respectively.

I listened in awe as they told me, all my thoughts about Antonio completely forgotten.

"Francis and I were best friends," Pride said, absently tugging at a thread of his shirt. Damn, I had never seen him so low! "But it— it wasn't just us." He looked for a moment at Lust, as if asking for permission to go on. "There was a third one. We were inseparable, the three of us. We were so sad when he couldn't make it to our trip, although we're glad he didn't end up like us."

I swallowed. Why are you telling me this, I wanted to ask, but no words would leave my lips. Thankfully, Lust answered anyway:

"He was a lot like Antonio," he smiled, sadly. "The other day, when we left you alone… We apologized for that, but we never gave you our reasons. Well, there you have it."

"Antonio— He reminded you of your friend?"

"We wanted to taste it again," Pride nodded. "The awesomeness of the Bad Touch Trio."

I couldn't help it — I sorted at the name. "I understand," I muttered, though. "I forgive you for, um, leaving me alone to despair."

Pride laughed softly. Then he seemed to realized it wasn't his usual, obnoxious laugh and paled even paler than he already was.

"Oh no," he whispered, terrified. "I'm going soft. No, no, no, this can't be!" He jumped to his feet. "I'm going to punch someone in the face. Probably Vin— Greed. Probably Greed."

Just like that, he stomped out of the living room. I followed him with questioning eyes, though not really surprised by his attitude. Lust cleared his throat, catching back my attention, and pointed at the now free spot on the couch by his side. I didn't hesitate and rushed to his side. Now that I was getting answers, I sure as heck wasn't going to let it pass.

"Are you going to go all sentimental on me?" I tried to joke.

"Yes," he replied, completely serious.

"… oh."

He hesitated for a moment before talking again.

"Do you remember when you asked me if I understood love?"

I nodded. His reply still made me think, from time to time.

"I never did," he confessed. "We lived a long time ago. And in those times, there were certain things that were not only unaccepted, but straight illegal."

I smiled, understanding.

"You're one of us, huh?"

"Homosexual? Yes." He scratched his stubble, taking a moment to (I suppose) order his thoughts. "And I never understood why I felt like that when I looked at a certain someone, because it fit all I had read about love but it couldn't be, because since when two men can love each other?" He sighed. "I confessed my feelings to my two best friends, and they advised I kept it secret because… well, those were different times. So I never told him. I think he was aware of it, or at least suspected, but he never let it show. Then the… incident happened, and as I lived through the years, I started to see it was possible, and common, and I immensely regretted not having told him."

"Why don't you now?"

He looked at me, surprised. I felt slightly offended — I'm not stupid!

"Do you know who he is?"

"Wrath, right?" When he nodded and asked how I'd known, I shrugged and said: "You always treat him differently than the others. More lovingly. Despite all the quarrels."

"I didn't know it was that obvious," he chuckled, somewhat sadly. "To answer your question… I wouldn't know what to do if he rejected me. We're two quasi-immortal beings forced to live together until the end of our days. I wouldn't stand it."

"And it's better to carry on with the doubt?"

He fell silent, lost in thought. So did I.

Look at me, giving love advice to a freaking demon. Telling him to do something I didn't have the guts to do. Telling him…

Screw this.

I startled Lust when I abruptly stood up.

"Wha—? Lovino? Where are you going?" he called, rushing after me.

"Out," was my simple reply.

"I can see that! But why—?"

I never heard the rest of his question. I had to do this quickly, or else I'd think twice about it and never get to do it. And I had to. I really had.

I walked fast. I didn't know exactly where my destination was, but I knew for sure that I'd find it, one way or another. Thankfully, luck seemed to be on my side.

"Hey, asshole!" I yelled.

Sadik, Antonio's (hated) co-worker, stopped walking and looked at me, both surprised an annoyed.

"Ah, you're the guy that was with Antonio the other day," he said when he recognized me. "What do you want?"

"Take me to your nursery," I ordered.

He raised an eyebrow.

"I just got out from work. I'm coming back from there. You want me to go all the way back?"

"Please."

He sighed.

"And then people say I'm not a nice guy…"

He started to walk on the opposite direction, motioning for me to follow. I did.

We didn't talk during the walk. He asked me a couple of things, but I barely replied something other than "yes" or "no". I was too busy mentally rehearsing what I was going to say, hoping I wouldn't screw up. In the end, he gave up and remained silent until we reached the nursery.

It was a nice little building, with the walls painted with rainbows and lovable cartoon characters, and there was a big playground, where at least fifteen toddlers were running around laughing and playing. It was so welcoming; I could totally understand why Antonio loved working there.

"Here we are," Sadik said, pulling me out of my thoughts. "Do you want me to go get Antonio?"

"Uh— yes, please."

He disappeared inside the building. I heard him call Antonio, and I heard Antonio replying something like "What the fuck are you doing here?"; except he didn't use "fuck" because there were kids. But I'm certain he thought it.

Soon after, Sadik came out, followed by an irritated Antonio. When he saw me waiting at the door, however, his expression morphed from irritation to surprise to confusion to guilt in barely two seconds.

"Well, my job here is done," Sadik smirked. "And that's my weekly good action!"

Maybe he said something else; maybe he left that instant; maybe he stood there a little longer. I didn't know — I was completely ignoring him. All I cared about was Antonio, who was standing in front of me.

"Lovino… What are—?"

"Antonio," I interrupted. I didn't mean to seem rude, but I needed to let it all out. "First of all, I'm sorry I blew up all your chances of getting back with Emma. Feli told me what happened, and I'm very, very sorry." I paused to take a deep breath, but went on before he could say something. "Secondly, I just wanted to say that I— Fuck… That afternoon, you said you thought I hated you. The truth is quite… quite the opposite." I gulped. I was going to do it. There it went. "I've had a crush on you since I first met you, and since then it evolved into, uh, well… love." I wasn't looking at him (I couldn't, God, my face would explode if I did that!), so I didn't see his reaction, but I did hear him gasp. "I didn't realize it myself until very recently, you know, but I am so very in love with you and— and I'm yours. Completely. I just— thought you should know."

I didn't look at his face. I didn't even let him speak. The moment I finished my awkward yet so sincere confession, I turned and ran away.

~{x}~

I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel better after having let all my feelings out. Wrath had once told me that I shouldn't let anger bottle-up inside me, but thinking about it, I concluded that that applied to basically every single feel.

So… yeah. I didn't feel spectacular, but I wasn't feeling down either. It helped that, when I came back from my (one-sided) talk with Antonio, I saw Lust and Wrath hugging tightly in the kitchen, the former smiling brightly with happy tears rolling down his cheeks. At least they got be happy. Honestly, they deserved it.

More or less a week after the Desperate Confession™, my brother called me out of the blue.

"Hello, Lovi! How are you?"

"Better than I expected."

"Antonio told me about that outburst of yours…"

"Did he now?"

"He was quite confused."

"He's a stupid bastard."

"That's not what someone who's completely his would say," he chuckled.

"God, just how many details did he give you…" I groaned, embarrassed.

"Enough," the little shit answered, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "Anyway, I was calling you because in a couple of days it's Nonno's birthday, and I know he's no longer with us, but I think it'd be nice if you and I had dinner together to celebrate, because that's what he'd want."

Nonno's birthday, yes. Truth is, we hadn't celebrated our grandpa's birthday since he had passed away a few years ago. And my dumb little brother was right: the old man would want us to honour his memory by getting pissed and flirting with pretty ladies. That's what he excelled at, after all.

"Lovi? You still there?"

"Huh? Yes, yes, I'm still here."

"So? Do you like the idea?"

"Yeah. I like it a lot."

"Yay! Okay, then I'll pick you up on Friday at around eight thirty. Dress nicely!"

And he hung up.

I stared at my phone for a moment, a bit taken aback by Feli's attitude. Still, I was glad he was getting over Nonno. Despite myself, I smiled gently, already impatient for Friday.

As it usually happens, Friday took its sweet time to finally come; and when it was finally there, the clock didn't seem to move at all dammit why wasn't already eight thirty? And when it finally was eight thirty… Feli wasn't there.

I paced nervously around the living room, earning amused glances from a stupid bunch of stupid demons.

"If you frown that much, you'll have lots of wrinkles," Lust chuckled.

"Like I give a fuck."

"Control your anger, Lovino," Wrath warned, jokingly.

"Yes, because anger is the path to the Dark Side," I rolled my eyes. They didn't get the reference and I rolled them again.

After a few minutes of teasing comments and sarcastic replies, the doorbell finally rang. I rushed to the door and opened it a tad too violently.

"It was about time, you dumba—!"

I froze mid-sentence.

"Hello!" Antonio smiled.

…

What…

I mean…

Why…

He…

I opened and closed my mouth, unable to utter a single word. My somehow still functioning brain tried to process what was going on: not only Feli was nowhere to be seen, but also Antonio was wearing a nice suit (tight trousers — kill me now) and looked so radiant and bright and— and— What the actual fuck?!

"I know you weren't expecting me," he said when I failed to speak. "I'm sorry for this little trick; I just, um, wasn't sure if I'd manage to ask you out myself."

"A-Ask me out?"

"Yes! I have a reservation at a nice restaurant… for us… if you want to come," he said, shyly offering me his hand.

Okay. I couldn't believe I was awake. I knew I was, because my dreams always got much weirder than this, but I couldn't believe it. Because how could that be happening? For real? I took a deep breath.

Lovino Vargas, this is probably the most important moment in your entire life— don't screw up!

"B-But why?"

Excellent job, you fucking moron.

A faint blush covered Antonio's cheeks and his smile became softer, tender. More loving.

"You said you were mine," he answered, honest. "I thought I might as well give you the chance to make me yours."

The bastard was better with words than I'd ever aspire to be. I stuttered a series of "um", "eh", "oh" and variations. Then I asked him if he'd give me five seconds.

"What for?"

"Screaming."

He laughed that laugh of his that was so clear and cheerful and goddamn beautiful.

"Oh, but we'll get to that later," he replied, cheekily winking at me.

… magnificent bastard…

I dropped my face on my hands, in a useless attempt at hiding my blushing cheeks.

And then, very slowly, I reached for his hand.

The rest, as they say, is history.

~{x}~

"Hey, guys. After dating for almost a year… Antonio and I are moving in together."

My seven friends (because at that point that's what they were) started to cheer and congratulate me. Only Lust noticed that I wasn't as happy as one would expect.

"What's wrong?"

"… we're moving to Sicily."

Dead silence.

Sad eyes.

Heartfelt farewells.

I made seven demons cry that day. I think I deserve a fucking prize for that.

~{x}~{§}~{x}~

I don't know what wakes me up. Antonio's snoring behind me, one of his arms wrapped around my waist. I lazily reach for his hand, smiling when our rings graze each other. Who would have thought, eh? Not me, that's for sure. I was so shocked when he asked me that I answered something stupid involving pizza. Then he laughed at me, and then I said yes.

Then we moved to Spain.

And then—

Ah. That's what's woken me up. I hear now the quiet steps that come closer to our bed, and soon Isabel's round face is right before my eyes.

"Dad," she whispers, her lower lip trembling. "I had a nightmare."

Antonio really is SuperDad. I always knew he would. It's so endearing watching him read bed-time stories to Isabel; the way he voices all the characters and mimics their expressions. His devastated face when he realizes there's only one chocolate mousse left is always hilarious, and the kind smile he always wears as he hands it to Isabel never fails to make my heart flutter.

Yes, he's definitely SuperDad.

And you know what?

I'm not half bad, either.

"A nightmare?" I repeat as I crawl next to her and pick her up. This isn't an uncommon scene, and I always know how to act. I knew from the very first time. "Were there monsters?" I ask, placing her between Antonio and myself.

Antonio groans something like "What's the matter" and opens a sleepy eye.

"I had a nightmare," Isabel repeats to him. "And there were lots of monsters," she answers my question, hiding under the covers.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," I say, sandwiching her between her Papa and me. "You're more than safe now." Pause for a yawn. "No fucking monster is going to eat you tonight."

"Language," Antonio growls, and Isabel giggles.

Oh. Language. Yeah, that's my main problem when it comes to parenting. I'm working on it! I mumble a quiet apology, and soon Antonio's arm is around me again, going over Isabel as well.

Fuck, I'm happy.

Many years ago, I wouldn't have dared to dream of a moment like this.

Yet here we are.

"Lovi…" Antonio whispers, not wanting to wake up an already deep asleep Isabel (she loves sleeping like the proper offspring of a Spanish-Italian marriage should). "I love you."

Despite all these years, I still blush.

"… me too."

"And—" he yawns, "you're perfect."

"Of course," I smirk. "I'm number one."

FIN