AN: Sorry about the wait! I am determined to get this story finished now, although most of you prabably are no longer interested. OVER A YEAR TO WAIT? What is wrong with me? Thank you for the patience and reviews, you're all wonderful.

It had been two days since the argument. Gilbert certainly was not in a good mood. For the past two days, he had called in sick just to avoid Roderich. In all honesty, he felt like a wimp.

This was not awesome in the slightest.

How could Roderich have rejected him like that? Gilbert just couldn't get his head around it. Mor importantly, neither would Ludwig, so now he couldn't use the computer link to spy on the brunette either. Apparently his little brother had seen him try and pull a fast one on the married man.

In times like these there was only one thing left to do. Go out and drink.

Sliding out of the bed he had hardly left for the past couple of days, Gilbert shuffled out of his bedroom and into the darkness of his apartment. Stumbling blindly, he fumbled along the wall with his hands, and finally reaching the light switch he flicked it on. The glare of the light in his eyes that had become accustomed to the dark over the past two days nearly sent him stumbling back again.

Grumbling, the albino wandered over to the coffee table and picked up the phone. He was calling in back-up.

It had taken him about an hour to finally scrub up. Considering he hadn't bathed in those few days, or shaved, or even brushed his teeth God help him. An hour really was a record time to clean himself up after all that.

The radio instantaneously turned on as he turned the key in his car. Instead of the usual German rock music that he loved, Gilbert had a huge urge to listen to something else. Piano. Frantically, he switched through the dials. Piano music, classical, anything.

"And now Chopin's Nocturne in E flat major, conducted by…"

And the music began. Such beautiful music that, God he swore he hated classical but this. It was Roderich. All the sadness in rage he had seen in Roderich, in those beautiful violet eyes… It stirred something within the albino. Some strange determination. Something that he just couldn't shift. Nodding along with the sloping beat of the piano, he accelerated onwards into the navy night.

"Ah, mon ami! It has been a while, oui?" A blonde Frenchman with a small goatee approached him when he entered the bar. Francis Bonnefoy. He had his own radio show in the early morning, so he and Gilbert didn't meet at work often. Which was a shame really, as he and Gilbert shared the same lewd sense of humour.

Smiling, the albino embraced him. "Nice to see you again man!" It really was good to see Francis. It had been a couple of weeks.

"Hola mis amigos!" A large weight came crashing down on Gilbert's back, and a pair of tanned arms wound around his neck. Antonio.

"Hey Toni!" the other two chorused. After the usual greetings shared between them, they sat down in a booth, and Tonio fetched their first round. The first round was an excuse for them to adjust to each other again, a transition into their usual habits and jokes. By the fifth round they were far into their old ways.

And that was when Gilbert began. "I was with this guy. But I screwed up."

Francis quirked an eyebrow. "Oh really? This the cutie from the office you've been after? What happened mon cher? Losing your touch?"

Antonio's eyes widened. "Roderich?" He clearly had only just caught up with what exactly was going on.

"Ja." The albino could feel the tips of his ears reddening. "But, I screwed it up. All of it."

"But you were so cute amigo!" the Spaniard rubbed his head in confusion.

Francis nudged Antonio as if to say 'Shut up now.' Damn that cut deeper than anything.

"But here's the thing. This time, this one time in my life, I wasn't awesome. I went wrong. Me. And it sucks. I pushed him too hard. And he fell, in the wrong way."

The Frenchman sipped his wine, then inhaled and said; "To fall in love, l'amour, may not even be the good way."

"Si." Antonio drank in toast to those words. "If only my Lovi's love weren't so cruel."

Gilbert sighed. "I want him back. I want to fight for him so hard." Words formed on his tongue, and faded away again. What if he doesn't… not anymore… "I just. I don't know how to do it. How do I fight without forcing him away? It hurts. Damn it hurts." He cursed under his breath. He could feel his eyes clouding with tears, even though they were tightly closed. It wasn't even the alcohol. It was, God it was Roderich. A burning need, like none he had felt before. No sexual desire, something deeper.

"Gilbert?"

Antonio's voice in his ear, his right, warm and comforting. A breath on his left and the slight accidental touch of rough beard. Francis.

"I think, mon cher, if you really do love him, you shouldn't worry about it. You should just fight until you can't fight anymore."