"Oi, bastard, wake up!"

Antonio's peaceful sleep was evaporated instantly as adrenaline flooded his veins. Lovino did have a talent for waking people up very suddenly. Even after such a rude awakening, though, Antonio couldn't help but smile. He wasn't sure what, but there was something about Lovino's presence that just made him happy. It was nice to feel happy after such a terrible week.

"Morning, Lovi," he yawned.

"It's not morning, you asstard," Lovino scowled, looming over Antonio with his hands on his hips. The scowl wasn't one of anger though, it was just Lovino's regular face; Antonio briefly wondered if he ever smiled. He looked like he was about to head out somewhere; he had on a warm-looking leather jacket over his white shirt. "You fell asleep on the goddamn sofa while doing your reading practise. It's not even siesta time. Lazy moron."

Antonio stretched luxuriously along the sofa's length, ignoring Lovino's harsh words. He knew he didn't really mean it. "It's not as if I have things to do like you have your work. I can do what I like."

"Like fuck you can," Lovino retorted. "Put your jacket and shoes on, we're going out."

Surprised, Antonio sat up. Lovino didn't like him going outside. Something to do with 'complete disaster'. "Out? Where? I didn't think you liked me going outside, so I've not, even though I get bored here sometimes."

"Find more stuff to do then. You've got to have had some hobbies as a pirate that weren't thievery." Lovino had completely avoided the question, Antonio realised. This wasn't usual; Lovino had previously said beforehand where he was intending on going, on the rare occasions he'd taken Antonio anywhere.

Pushing that aside for later, Antonio pondered what Lovino did say for a moment. Yes, it was true he'd had hobbies in his previous time – you had to do something to while away the long hours on sea voyages that took months without sight of land – but he'd never mentioned any of them as he'd thought none of them existed anymore. Hobbies now seemed to include television, cooking – which he was only allowed to do under supervision (to his reluctant agreement), and incessantly tapping those bizarre little boxes – phones – which seemed to have an almost limitless number of uses. There was no way anything he'd done previously would have survived the years.

Ignoring the diversion, Lovino poked him in the arm. "Deaf bastard, I just said put your shoes on."

"Yes, but where are we going?" Antonio didn't move from his seat. As much as he listened to Lovino's advice about how to live in this time, he didn't appreciate being ordered around as much. And he certainly wasn't going to obey commands if he wasn't been kept in the loop.

Lovino frowned. "It's…it's a surprise, ok?" Was that uncertainty Antonio saw flicker across his face? It was hard to tell; a bit unusual. Lovino was usually very honest. To the point of bluntness.

Nevertheless, Antonio's curiosity was piqued, and he got up to find a jacket with only a few rebuffed questions. It really would be surprising if Lovino thought it would be a surprise, and he certainly wasn't going to pass up on a chance to go outside. If it was Lovino, it wasn't going to be a bad surprise. Probably. So he was fairly quick to get to lacing up his boots. The footwear hadn't been the same since Lovino had attacked them with a tin of polish and they'd gone unnaturally shiny, but they were his favourite boots that had seen him through many adventures, and if he was going on another, they were his companion of choice to come with. Well, assuming Lovino wasn't going to let him bring the axe. Lovino had a grudge against that weapon, it seemed.

"Isn't Feliciano coming with us?" Antonio asked, as they headed out the door.

Lovino shook his head. "No. He went off to the cinema with Kiku and the stupid potato. You slept through that. He won't be back for a while. Besides, it's easier this way. I can only fit two of us on the motorbike."

Antonio froze, completely forgetting to ask what a 'cinema' was. "The motorbike?"

The motorbike indeed. The contraption of black leather and twisted metal slumbered in a shadow behind the building, deceptively still. Deformed antlers capped with mirrors twisted up and out from behind the protrusion of the front wheel. Its strange, sleek curves gave only the barest hint of seating. Antonio hadn't ridden the thing yet, but he'd seen Lovino do so when watching out the window. It was like a horse, but louder and less controllable. He eyed it like he would a South American crocodile that was debating its lunch menu. He didn't trust machines one bit. Magic, now magic he could understand. Machines? He didn't have a clue how those made sense. Bits of metal all shoved together in different shapes and suddenly it could go almost faster than he could process.

"Oi, bastard, catch!"

Antonio had just enough of a split-second to catch what Lovino had thrown at him; a head-sized plastic black shell patterned with white. It had a clear plastic screen across the curve of the front – at least Antonio presumed it was the front. "What's this? Is it a hat?"

"Pretty much," Lovino said, raising one eyebrow. "You actually got one right for once, I'm almost impressed. It's a safety hat called a helmet. If you wear it and we crash, you're less likely to die."

Antonio looked at him. "You must be joking, Lovi." This motorbike had always looked suspicious to him and now he had proof. He'd looked death in the face a few times, but not like this. Fights? Sure! Storms? Bring them on! Voluntarily taking a trip on a two-wheeled speed machine with possible murderous tendencies? Madness. Contrary to some people's opinion, Antonio wasn't stupid. This, now this had to be.

"Nope," Lovino replied with a completely straight face. "We're not really going to crash and die, idiot. It's just, you know, a precaution. Just in case of the one-in-a-million chance. Also the law and shit like that. Now c'mon, d'you want the surprise, or not? Because if you do, then you're going to have to ride the motorbike."

Frowning to himself, Antonio faced the helmet. The helmet faced him back, silent and alien. Antonio guessed correctly that the visor was indeed the front, and the strap clicked into place under his chin. The casing of plastic made his head feel oddly confined. Not quite squished, but still too close for comfort. He preferred his old hat by far. That hat had the bonus of looking fearsome; this one made his head look like a giant plastic ball. "I don't like this hat, Lovi."

"Tough," Lovino grunted from behind his own, red, helmet. He swung one leg over the bike and gestured to the space behind him, precariously above the back wheel. "Sit there. There's no handlebars for riding pillion, so you're going to have to hold onto me."

Antonio hadn't a clue what 'pillion' was, but it was clear what Lovino meant, despite him not liking physical contact. For a moment, Antonio's desire to see more of the world wrestled with his reluctance to ride the death behemoth. It didn't help that there was going to be an impossibly fast disc spinning less than eight inches below he really did not want one to be.

Behind the tint of the visors, Antonio could just about see Lovino make a face as he wrongly assumed the cause of Antonio's discomfort. "Yeah, I don't like it either, but there's no other choice. Now get the hell on before I change my mind about this whole stupid thing."

Lovino often called things stupid, Antonio mused as he mounted the bike, but he noted the Italian rarely did anything he would truly dislike, despite all his loudly-voiced opinions to the contrary. His arms slid around the cool smoothness of Lovino's jacket, feeling his fingers tingle. He could see tiny hairs on the back of Lovino's neck, could smell hints of tomatoes, citrus, something strange and modern; the smell he'd come to associate with Lovino, only closer up than he'd known it. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad, after all.

Then Lovino twisted one of the handlebars, and the motorbike leapt forward at a terrific speed. The wind cut icily through the slightest gap in Antonio's clothing, its deafening volume whistling through his ears despite the helmet and its terrifying pressure threatening to pull him backwards. Scenery whipped past, far too blurred by motion to be anything but meaningless colour. Antonio shut his eyes on spotting the road beneath and its speeding blur of impending death. This had to be the two hundred miles an hour that Lovino spoke of. It was too fast for him to comprehend any detail.

It took all Antonio's pride and courage not to scream as he clutched Lovino tight.

XxxxX

Sometime between ten minutes and three centuries of bone-rattling vibration and terror later, Lovino finally stopped their crazy journey. There was an odd ringing remaining in Antonio's ears after the roar of the engine died away. It was like the echo of the engine. He cautiously opened his eyes to find himself in an uncomprehendingly bizarre space. It wasn't really a room; it was outdoors, and it was easily the size of a field. But it wasn't grassy like a field, it was tarred like a road. Not that it was easy to tell the size in any case; the area was packed with cars of all colours and shapes, lined up in rough rows dozens of vehicles long, more cars than he'd ever seen or could imagine. Nearer to them were half-a-dozen motorbikes like Lovino's, but that number was dwarfed by the amount of cars. It had to be some kind of car nest. Antonio pulled off his helmet, puzzled.

Looking at the ground, there were white lines, three sides of a rectangle, marked in rows similar to how the cars were sat, but it was like the cars hadn't been paying much attention to whether they matched in the lines or not. As he climbed off the motorbike, Antonio was puzzled. Was it a guide, or just decoration? Why were all these cars here? Machines didn't seem to need to socialise. And why would Lovino bring him on such a terrible motorbike journey just to go to a car nest? There were lots of cars back in Rome. How was a car nest a good surprise? Antonio didn't want a baby car.

But he was willing to hold off on the questions, for now at least. Car nests could be explained later. Just a scant few days ago, he'd been longing for more of a chance to see how the world had changed, and it was only begrudgingly that he'd accepted Lovino's rule that he not go out on his own. He wasn't going to squander this opportunity to explore, especially now that they had to be very far away after going at two hundred miles an hour.

The Spaniard shuddered inwardly and turned suspicious eyes back to the motorbike, sat there innocently like it hadn't just been a potential death whirl. He was not looking forward to the return journey on it.

"It didn't scare you, did it?" Lovino's voice, with accompanying smirk, interrupted his thoughts. He took Antonio's helmet off him and clipped the pair to the bike.

Antonio quickly shook himself off. It wouldn't do to look too scared, even if he was not wanting to ever get back on that thing again. He had to look the fear in the face and laugh. "Of course I wasn't scared, Lovi. I don't get scared. I was the captain, after all."

Lovino smirked, and Antonio had a nasty feeling that the Italian had been able to feel him clinging on for dear life through that leather jacket. "Sure. Whatever." He beckoned with one hand. "C'mon, it's not far." He set off through the rectangular-patterned car nest towards a gap in the low wooden fence.

"What's not far?" Still a bit suspicious, Antonio followed. They definitely weren't in Rome anymore. Antonio was a seasoned traveller, and even in this modern world he could tell this place was different. Beyond the gap was a street lined with low buildings, mostly white. It was quieter than Rome; only a few dozen people were scattered around, wandering leisurely down the streets and the cars on the road were more of a trickle than the constant honking shiny smelly river that he'd got used to assaulting his senses.

It was only a few jelly-legged steps around the corner that Antonio's nose got a nostalgic nudge.

There was a salty tang to the air, an embrace far removed from the harsh, artificial city smells that Antonio had been forced to get used to. A touch of dampness. And, a second later, the accompanying scream of gulls. It was like being dragged back in time by his nose. He breathed deeply, revelling in the reassuringly familiar smell. There was no way he could be mistaken.

A few steps ahead, Lovino stopped, realising he'd lost his companion, scowled and waved a loosely-clenched hand. "Oi! What're you standing there like an idiot for?"

"The sea, Lovi," Antonio breathed, still half in shock. He'd never thought he'd smell such a thing again. It was an unanticipated comfort in the middle of everything so strange. "I can smell the sea."

Lovino gave him a knowing smile and pointed up the road. "Oh, that. Yeah. It's about three blocks that way. That's where we're going. I thought – oi, get the hell back here!"

Without waiting for Lovino to complete his sentence, Antonio had raced past him in the indicated direction. Dodging the startled people scattered across the past, Antonio whisked around a corner. He could taste the scent getting stronger. Just a few more buildings, then maybe he could –

"OI! STOP, YOU BASTARD!"

Lovino's hand caught his outstretched arm as he ran and Antonio skidded to a reluctant halt to avoid bowling the two of them over. He was surprised at how fast Lovino could run; not many people had caught him in a chase.

Lovino was panting slightly, his face flushed. He hadn't released the tight grip on Antonio's arm. "Jesus Christ, don't do that! I've had enough with wondering where the balls you've gone without you running off into the unknown again!"

Touched, but annoyed, Antonio tugged his arm out of the Italian's grip and gestured down the road. "But the sea's right over there, Lovi, and it's been so long since I've had a chance to see it, and–"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Lovino interrupted. "You already said all that shit. I'd just thought that you'd rather get on an actual boat and go for a ride like I was planning in the first damn place, than stand on a beach and stare at the sea like a moron."

Antonio's breath caught in his throat as his heart soared. An actual boat? It had been so long… He couldn't believe Lovino had got one for him. "You have a boat?"

A sea breeze, warm and salty, ruffled Lovino's hair as it passed. "Of course, idiot. Well, I rented it – that's a sort of borrowing in exchange for money, before you ask – but yeah, that's why I brought you here. You keep being all mopey and shit, and it's annoying, so I thought this might cheer you up so you'd go back to being normally annoying, which is still annoying, but less annoying than mopey-annoying." He scowled again, as he did when anything that made him seem like he had feelings turned up.

Antonio picked up the translation – both from Lovino-ese to Italian and Italian to Spanish – easily enough. But he didn't have the words in either language to express how happy he was, and he wasn't sure Lovino would appreciate a hug. He had to make do with a breathless "Let's go!".

Lovino scowled like Antonio had taken far too long to reach this decision. "C'mon, bastard, the marina's this way."

Antonio was happy to follow as Lovino headed back up the road they'd come down, although his going was too slow for Antonio's excited liking.

He was less happy when Lovino introduced him to the marina, however.

What Lovino called a 'boat' was an unnatural white creature about five times the size of a rowboat, pointed at the front with an unwieldy square rear. Its shininess whispered of the material Antonio had come to know and dislike as 'plastic'. The front was hampered with the clear screen, the 'wind shield' Antonio had seen on cars and Lovino's motorbike, which looked nothing like a shield. It was a far cry from the magnificent, imposing wooden structures that Antonio had grown up with, and in his experienced seaman's eyes, it didn't look capable of getting more than a few feet from shore. It looked weak. It was tiny. It didn't even have a sail. What kind of boat didn't have a sail? It couldn't move anywhere without one. He frowned at it suspiciously and took a step back before glancing in doubt at Lovino.

Lovino just folded his arms and scowled at him. "Don't look at me like that. It's the only boat I was allowed to rent without a major license, and I couldn't even get the sort of boat you know, so if you want to go on the sea it's either deal with it or fucking swim. And you're not allowed to swim as you'll get arrested."

"It doesn't even have a sail though!" Antonio protested. "How does it go anywhere?"

Lovino rolled his eyes. "How does anything nowadays go anywhere?" He pointed to the black box about the size of a man's chest that was squatting at the bow of the 'boat'. "In moron terms, it's got an engine, which drives a propellor underneath the waterline. That does all the work for you, so you don't need to fuck around with ropes and whatnot."

Antonio frowned. He liked the 'fucking around with ropes and whatnot'; he felt at home, in control. He knew exactly what he was doing; he'd grown up with it. Engines and levers and dials were a mystery to him. It was like the boat had a mind of its own – you didn't know what was really going on beneath all the casing. There was a little wizard living in there for all he knew. Sailing as he knew it was straightforward, and if there was a problem, he'd know immediately what it would be and how to solve it. If something happened with a motor, he was in the dark.

"I still don't like it, Lovi," he frowned. "I'd much rather we got a real ship, but we'd need more than us two to operate it. And I can't see any around here." A quick glance around the marina had revealed perhaps fifty boats on a series of small jetties, all that unnatural white, although some did have decorations and names painted on. There were some did have sails, but they were only twenty feet tall and their masts were thin poles that looked flimsier than saplings. It was strange how every other piece of technology had gone forward, and yet boats had gone backwards.

"Fine," Lovino growled, flinging his hands down. "Then we're going home. I'm not standing here listening to you grouch for hours about how five-hundred-year-old relics are better than aerodynamic machines with years of design and testing. Glad to see I wasted my time thinking about how to cheer you up and driving you all the way out here. C'mon, bastard." He turned away, muttering under his breath, and started back up the little jetty towards the cobbled bank.

Antonio panicked. His chance to finally go back on the ocean, and he'd blown it. "Wait, Lovi! I didn't mean I wasn't going to go in the boat! I don't mind, really!"

"You had your chance," Lovino retorted. Chances of redemption faded before Antonio's eyes. "No point making you go on the sea in a boat you hate. C'mon, if we go home now I can get some work done before dinner."

Antonio caught up with him and tugged on the sleeve of his jacket. "No! I want to go, I really do!" Damn Lovino, making him beg like this. This was not going to be forgotten. How many times had he had to forgo his pride since he'd been released?

Lovino looked at him seriously, one eyebrow raised out of his scowl. "And you won't complain about the boat?"

"But-"

"Nope." Lovino cut him off and turned around again.

"Ok, ok, I won't complain about the boat." Antonio scowled. Years he'd spent on the sea, going on adventures, and answering to no-one, and here he was now being blackmailed by a skinny Italian guy younger than he was. All for a ride on a tiny white blasphemy. It was a travesty.

Antonio's boots made a dead thunk when they landed gingerly on the suspicious watercraft's deck. It didn't seem as small as it had while he was outside of it – in fact, it was more than reasonable for two people – but Antonio had been right about knowing nothing about the controls. All the focus of the boat was on a panel at the front, with dials and buttons and strange shapes – it was worse than cars, which he'd already flatly refused to go in. There wasn't a rigging in sight, and the ship's wheel was black and only a foot wide. If he hadn't been told by Lovino, and the thing wasn't sat in the water as it was, Antonio would never have identified it as anything even close to a boat.

He frowned and sat down, suddenly unsure. All the excitement of a few minutes ago had faded. Was this trip out actually going to be a reassuring visit to the sea he'd once known, or was it, like everything else, going to be so disturbingly different that it just resulted in another crushed dream? He didn't think he could take it if the sea had been taken from him too. The powerful, expansive blue… Was it really going to cheer him up, like Lovino had said? He hated being so confused like this. Things used to have been so certain.

Lovino, at the controls, was oblivious to this inner turmoil. A few seemingly random gestures and pokes, and the black engine box Antonio had deliberately sat away from coughed and juddered into life like a freshly-awakened animal. With it came a constant vibration, not quite the bone-rattling one of the motorbike, but again enough to make him feel like he was sat on something only two steps away from being alive. The roar the boat made wasn't unlike that of the motorbike either– they had to be powered by a similar sort of magic. It was somewhat deadened by the presence of the water, but it was still an unnerving noise for a boat to be making. Antonio tried to push it to the back of his mind. But it was harder to ignore the strange oily smell that came with the exhaust. For the first time since he'd set foot on a ship, he almost felt like he was going to be sick.

Lovino kept the speed slow as he coasted the craft out the marina, drifting gently around the other boats going about their respective businesses. It was a sedate speed, relaxing but for the growl of the engine causing Antonio's hackles to rise. The vessel steadily rounded a corner, and the brick walls forming either side of the marina's exit briefly loomed at either side of Antonio's vision before dwindling in size as they fell behind.

As they approached open water, Antonio offhandedly wondered how fast modern boats could go, and if it was as fast as motorbikes. But this, it seemed, was tempting fate; not five seconds later Lovino did something to the controls that caused the engine to increase pitch as if angered and water to spray into Antonio's head. Wind pushed furiously at his hair. The thin wake behind the boat swelled from a rippling line to long clouds of white foam. For a heartbeat Antonio was terrified as his last thread of reassurance snapped. The future had turned boats into high-speed creatures as threatening as the motorbike. This wasn't relaxing at all.

Yet Antonio had not risen to Captain by running away from an unfamiliar situation. Reluctant to give up so early, Antonio wrenched his gaze from the engine, wake, and steadily shrinking land, towards the front. He was greeted by the familiar sight of endless waves racing to the horizon to meet the sweep of cloud-spattered sky. Misshapen modern ships, smaller than toys, some smaller than seeds, reassuring him of the sheer immensity of the water. The expanse of ocean, with nothing to compare to, dwarfed the boat's speed. Five knots, twenty knots, two hundred miles an hour; it was irrelevant when facing that unchanging horizon. Antonio's heart began to settle.

With the wind rushing past his face and a mist of salt water thrown up in the boat's wake as the craft picked up speed, it was even exhilarating in its own way. This was a sort of unusually fast that he didn't mind as much.

He leaned out over the side, watching the beautiful sapphire-and-froth water churn around the boat, dappled with sunlight. Gently, he dangled one hand over the edge, barely eighteen inches from the waves. Spray soaked his fingers, and his heart soared back into its rightful place.

A translucent purple jellyfish lurked happily in a patch of sun a few feet away. It bounced unconcernedly in the turbulence as they passed and then was lost to sight.

They were some fifteen minutes or so out to sea when Lovino abruptly cut the boat's engine and left the control panel, coming over to sit by Antonio. He didn't say anything, but seemed to be watching Antonio carefully. His face had a cautious, almost unreadable look.

Antonio didn't know how Lovino had noticed he'd be happier without that mechanical drone. He closed his eyes as the sound of the motor finally died and for a blissful moment he almost felt at peace. There was the gentle, comforting rock of the boat riding the little background waves, a motion he'd been so used to that there were times when its absence made being on land feel unnatural. He could feel a soft spray of salt water brushing his face; he could taste it on his lips, feel the mist on his face. There weren't any weird engine noises interrupting his sleep, or confusing devices trying to burn his fingers. If he disconnected from the feeling of rigid plastic beneath his upper legs, he could almost be back, leant against the side of his ship to enjoy an afternoon at sea. It was wonderful to return to the serene feeling of riding the power and grace of the ocean again. That he was right in thinking that something so big, so endless, could not be changed so drastically like the land and the cities had been. It didn't even matter that ships had changed.

Tipping his head back to face the sky, he let a smile blossom across his lips.

It could have been only a minute later, it could have been an hour, Antonio couldn't tell, but when he finally opened his eyes again Lovino was smirking at him slightly.

The Italian chuckled quietly, but not mockingly. "Good to be back?"

Antonio smiled and nodded. "Yes. I'd really missed it. It's so peaceful out here."

And, despite the blue being busier than Antonio had ever known it, peaceful it was. With the motor gone, he could only hear the lap of waves against the side of the little boat. Every other noise was swallowed by distance.

"It's not all that bad then, is it, this modern boat you claim to hate?" Now there was a touch of mockery in Lovino's words.

Antonio stuck his tongue out at him, a modern gesture he'd seen Feliciano use which seemed appropriate for this situation, and for half a second he saw Lovino grin. "I still think ships should be made of wood, but I suppose it's grown on me. When it's quiet."

"You didn't seem to mind once I got it up to speed," Lovino pointed out. How had he noticed that?

There wasn't much point denying it since he had. "Ok, ok. That's…probably the first halfway decent thing about this sorry excuse for a boat." This phrase would have sounded much better had Antonio not been smiling. "They may look awful, but these boats do make up for it in fast. And you don't even have to get fifty people rowing. I still don't like engines, but they can get a lot of fast for not much effort."

Lovino grinned properly this time, a rare expression. "Yeah, engines are pretty great. But seriously, that wasn't fast. That was fifteen miles an hour; I was barely trying. I should introduce you to jet skis sometime. Then you'll know what fast feels like."

"Jet skis?" This sounded ominous.

"They're…a bit like motorbikes, but you drive them on the water. You'd probably be better with those than normal motorbikes. They're quite fun."

Antonio frowned thoughtfully. Water motorbikes. He didn't really like motorbikes, but perhaps fast would be better in water. Water wouldn't kill you if you crashed into it like the ground would. You just got wet and it ruined the firing system of your pistols. Yes, water was a much safer place for going fast. These 'water-motorbikes' almost sounded like fun.

He was wondering how the wheels would work underwater when an idea crashed into him with the force of a hurricane, and he almost hit himself that he hadn't thought of it earlier. "Hey, Lovi?"

"What?"

"Can I sail the boat?" Antonio frowned almost as soon as the words were out his mouth. How could he sail something without a sail? "Erm…can I boat it?" No, that sounded even worse.

Lovino spluttered, one hand to his mouth to suppress a laugh. "Oh God…" He was biting his lip, failing to suppress a smile. An offhand part of Antonio wondered at the back of his mind that Lovino should smile more often. "Shit, you're telling me I've got to give you grammar lessons as well? Damn. You don't boat a boat, moron, you steer it or drive it."

Antonio repeated sticking his tongue out. It wasn't a captainly gesture, but it was fun and he was growing fond of it. "Yes, well, can I?"

Half-a-dozen unreadable expressions flitted across Lovino's face and for an infuriating fraction of a second Antonio thought he was going to deny the request like he had for nearly every other modern item. But with a frown, Lovino replied, "I…I suppose so… It's not as if –" He caught Antonio's arm before he could dash excitedly to the controls. "But there's one condition. You've got to do exactly what I tell you, not press buttons randomly to see what they do. If you break the damn thing, I've got to pay for it, and then I will be pissed like you have never seen."

Slightly disappointed, but not enough to care, Antonio nodded. As long as he got to try out how fast the boat could go. It had been so long since he'd been this excited. Buttons were spread across the console like brightly coloured stars across a night sky. He curled his fingers around the small black wheel. It felt like car tyres.

Antonio followed obediently as Lovino showed him how to gently fire up and steer the little boat. It didn't take him long to get the hang of it, and he was developing a fondness for the little craft in equal speed. It may not have a sail, but it had a swift response to the controls and manoeuvrability that outclassed anything he'd known. And it did only require one person to do so. No one would disobey him if it were just him and Lovino. Well, Lovino would probably tell him to go fuck himself, but that was different.

The little red needle that Lovino had told him was the speed-reader had only moved a little bit. From the size of the dial, he knew it could do more.

"Ok!" Antonio shouted over the roar of the engine. "How do I do fast?"

Lovino paused apprehensively for a second before pointing again at the wide black lever that he'd referred to as the 'throttle'. "Push that one forward some more. But for God's sake be gentle!"

His futile last word was ripped away by the wind as Antonio pushed the lever as far forward as it would go, and the boat leapt forward with a tremendous roar from the engine.

Now this was fast.

Spray leapt up in waves and crashed against him as the boat charged onward like a craft with a personal vendetta against the water. Even small amounts of time ate up metres and metres of water. Antonio was soaked through and loving every second. No one could stop him now, not at the command of this kind of power.

He was vaguely aware of Lovino howling "Stop!" behind him, but that was probably just him practising his sarcasm. This was great. There was no need to stop at all.

A glance backwards told him of the great 'V' of spray kicked up into the air by their motion.

The vibration of the engine pulsed through him again, but now it was mixed with adrenaline, and it didn't feel alien at all. It was intoxicating. It urged him on. He pressed the throttle further and felt the boat race forward with him in kind. No one could catch him at this speed. He was invincible. Unstoppable.

Another boat, one that had once been so far away, came up close enough for Antonio to see the thin stripes on one sailor's jumper and the golden anchor shape on their captain's hat. Their wake caused a thin white wave to crash over the side of the other vessel, narrowly missing its passengers. One man shouted something at them as they passed, but the wind racing past Antonio's ears destroyed any semblance of words. He'd been waving a fist. Must have been a greeting.

That boat hadn't even been trying to go fast. Antonio wanted someone else to race. He'd always loved the thrill of the chase.

He spotted another ship, far bigger than theirs, much closer in size to ones Antonio had known centuries ago. But this one was bright shiny white, spattered with windows like it was trying to be a building, and prouder than a duchess at a royal ball. Antonio decided to go show it who was boss. It may be huge, but they could go faster.

Lovino was tugging urgently on his arm, shouting something that wasn't registering in Antonio's brain. Encouraged, Antonio urged their boat closer. Their speed was causing them to bump fiercely up and down as if every wave were a mountain.

The other boat rose up out of the water, swelling in size as they closed in. It would have dwarfed even whales. People were scattered across the top deck, hiding behind a thin white fence. Its shape began to block out the sky. But it was so slow, it was barely moving compared to them. As a cow was to a dog. Antonio could race up to it without it noticing. He could touch the side, easily. There were perhaps fifty yards between them. Now thirty. Less than a dozen. Giddy excitement, like he'd not known in years, rose up his chest. He was going to touch it. He'd be there and gone in a flash.

Lovino's hands found the wheel, digits cold on top of Antonio's, and jerked it to one side. He was shouting something incomprehensible between curse words. Something about 'big turning circle' and 'suicide'.

They drew so close that Antonio could see his own delighted grin and Lovino's face, mouth open in a terrified scream, reflected in the shining plastic of the giant ship's side. Then the steering kicked in and the craft twisted away towards clearer waters, with the satisfying splash of water being kicked twenty feet up the leviathan's side.

Antonio drove the boat away before they could be recognised,heart pounding with adrenaline, before catching Lovino's face and guiltily dropping back down to saner speeds. He was ghostly pale, tinged with green. Antonio had forgotten Lovino didn't know adventure like he did. The Italian probably wasn't used to dropping Death a casual 'hello' on a regular basis.

Gasping, Lovino collapsed onto a bench, one hand on his chest and his eyes closed. "Fucking hell… Jesus Christ, do not do that again. I swear I just had a heart attack, damn it. …Nearly died…fucking bastard…why did I ever think…oh God…" His words dissolved into sharp shallow breaths.

Still full of that exhilaration that made his chest feel like it was full of that bubbly drink Feliciano had introduced him to, Antonio sat next to him, giggling quietly. They hadn't really been about to crash. He'd been in complete control the whole time. Lovino, swearing breathlessly, looked like someone had removed his bones. Antonio was fairly certain he was just being a bit dramatic. That had been excellent fun. He couldn't wait to try jet skis if that was even better than small boats.

For a while, the two of them sat quietly, and gradually Lovino settled down and began to relax. His hands stopped their death-grip on the sides. Colour gradually returned to his pale cheeks. Antonio grinned at him. He was alright after all.

Exhilarated, the Spaniard returned to a state of oceanic relaxation as the boat drifted leisurely, aimlessly, across the water. He scanned the expanse of cloud-scattered sky. The slowly sinking sun began to drain the blue from the sky and radiate a soft orange. Clouds, now illuminated from beneath, turned a sulky, almost rainy grey. It was the image of a hundred sunsets at sea he'd seen before. Maybe, just maybe, he was going to be alright here after all. There were things in the present to be delighted with, to explore, to love.

He really had to forgive Lovino for making him beg earlier. This had been an amazing afternoon.

Antonio lowered his eyes again and looked at his friend. Lovino's eyes were sparkling golden in the warm sunset light. His hair, spattered with salt and windswept into an untidy mess, blew gently in the breeze. It looked like he'd recovered fully. He wasn't even scowling, and there was some kind of radiance in that, in its rarity, in its sincerity. It was nice to see him relax a little. Lovino worked so hard; for Antonio, for his brother, for himself.

And he'd done all this, just because Antonio was unhappy about missing the ocean. Not out of fear, or duty, or to try get on Antonio's good side, just out of genuine concern and generosity. Antonio was so grateful for that; he didn't even have the words to explain it, even in Spanish. And he'd never been good at words, at feelings. Certainly not feelings like these. Not the warm pressure building in his chest, making his breath come short. Not the magnetic pull that made him unable to take his eyes off Lovino's. Not the inexplicable happiness he felt when Lovino was close beside him like he was now.

A gull screamed as it banked and soared across the sky.

A sudden breeze fluttered past and a strand of hair blew in front of Lovino's face. Without thinking, Antonio reached forward and brushed it gently back into place. His fingers lightly contacted the soft skin of Lovino's face, and the other man's eyes widened, locked with Antonio's in a gaze that seemed to have paused time. Antonio's breath was almost gone, catching in the back of his throat.

The elation that had arisen from his racing adventure hadn't gone; there was something else holding it in place. Antonio felt like he was turning into a statue; he couldn't move away, but then he didn't want to.

There were perhaps five inches between his face and Lovino's.

Even the distant land, all across the sea, the other ships had all gone silent, and only the soothing sound of the waves seemed to caress the air. Antonio could feel Lovino's breath, warm against his face.

Three inches. Antonio's mind was blank, his body tingling.

He could see every detail of Lovino's eyelashes, in his eyes, in the shards of green running through the gold of his irises, up to the darker brown marbled at their outer edge, warm and hypnotic. They were magical eyes. Antonio felt like he could fall into in their depths.

Suddenly, those eyes widened, blinking quickly and Lovino drew back, breathing hard. The warm connection was lost as Antonio's hand fell away.

Antonio reluctantly rested the offending hand, suddenly so hot and ungainly, next to his leg. He grinned sheepishly. "You…had hair on your face." The words just sounded ridiculous.

Lovino coughed awkwardly, his face flushing red as he futilely tried to push his windswept, salt-flecked hair back into place. "You…why did…that…" He swallowed fiercely. "We should be getting back. It's late, and if I don't return the boat in time I'll have to pay a fine." He quickly crossed to the control panel and punched the buttons that restarted the engine. The resulting roar choked what had been left of the moment and Antonio mourned its passing.

"Yeah…ok." The confused captain nodded, almost stunned to reply. He felt almost crushingly disappointed, but he didn't quite know why. He wasn't sure what had been about to happen at the end of that moment, but he wished Lovino hadn't shied away. It had felt like the instant before the most magnificent firework was due to explode, but it had been torn away.

Just a bit further…only just a bit further…

He was too lost in thought to even be particularly scared of the motorbike on the otherwise silent return journey.

I commend the patience of everyone still reading. Seriously, I love you guys.
But I promised myself this'd be up before my term starts, and thus it is.