Chapter Text
A black car pulled up, taking the last free place on the small, familiar sidewalk.
No eyes were watching it. Everyone had went to sleep by now, only few people expecting visitors being too far from the car's placement to notice, not knowing where exactly said visitor was, nor when he would show up. Unaware of the surprise he brought that he himself wasn't certain of.
The music turned off along with Alfred's long, exhausted sigh. He leaned back on the seat, too tired, not ready to stand up and face the real world yet again. This past day had been one of his most tiring by far.
He stared through the window at the old car parked in front of them. He recognized it. There were foolish stickers on its back, bears, cringe slogans, cartoons. The kids who had put them there probably forgot half of it, if not all, as its owner had not seen them for a while, that is as far as Alfred knows.
It made him feel bad. An old lady, always so nice, always helping Alfred and Matthew hide whenever they wanted to spite their parents. That being, Alfred wanting to spite them and Mattie joining in for no apparent reason. He'd heard so much about her kids, siblings, such a fun, full life she had. And yet there she was, too tired to live but too energetic to die just yet. No one remembers her, kids living in another country, husband long gone. Is this what life really is? Is that what's going to face him sooner or later?
Truly, he's as much of a downfall in life as that lady and he barely turned to adulthood. Just how will his future look like if he'd managed to screw it up so badly so quickly?
A glance at the mirror. It took him some time, but Lovino did manage to fall asleep in the end, Alfred was glad of that. He didn't smile looking at him even though a warm feeling of relief was visible somewhere inside. That was, somewhere alongside the overbearing knot in the stomach that made him scared to swallow. His eyes narrowed, focusing on the man behind.
Lovino didn't look calm even in his sleep. Maybe he did, but had every right to not be this specific night. His brows were squeezed against each other, jaw clinging on itself, his apparently favorite pose still kept, hands crossed as if he were giving the biggest attitude.
It was almost funny.
But yet again, Alfred wasn't able to bring himself to smile.
As quietly as he could, he got out of the car, took out all the bags, struggling not to curse them out each time they made a bigger noise even though all of it was lacking purpose, as the inevitable was to come knocking to his doors soon enough.
He didn't want to face him. Nobody, really. He didn't want to wake Lovino up and have to get him to make a good impression, he didn't want to see his parents and have to explain not only what happened in America but why he came with a friend, he didn't want to see Matthew for nothing more apparent than the fact they were brothers and he'd felt too awkward about it. They haven't updated each other during almost his whole stay in the neighbor country, they were going to once they'd meet up but here Alfred was, bringing in another person to take up the time and space of all of them.
Shaking it off, he opened the side door next to Lovino, careful not to startle him in case his head was laying on it instead of the wall. He stared for a few seconds, hoping the man would wake up simply from that, but nothing seemed to change in his expression.
A shake on the Italian's shoulder.
Alfred backed off, not exactly sure how to wake someone up in a nice way.
Few seconds passed before Lovino moved, but he did and the American was awfully glad for that. He shifted, only legs staying in place. One hand made its way to his head followed by a groan, grabbing it like a tired mother of three. Only after that was when he opened his eyes, looked around, then at Alfred. His eyes opened rashly, breath quickening. Alfred forced out an awkward chuckle and moved even further away, figuring he must've came off as creepy after all.
Every next thing happened quietly.
Lovino getting out of the car, looking around the neighborhood.
Alfred grabbing the bags, Lovino glancing at him with curiosity, asking if he's to help silently. Alfred shaking his head as a no, forcing out a grin even he knew wasn't believable.
The sound of their steps being the only noise on the whole, empty if to exclude the running away from them small animals, street. Lovino slightly behind Alfred, not quite sure what to do, possibly too tired to ask.
Alfred spotted his house. He put the bags down in front of another one on the side, sighing. He gave Lovino an apologetic look before leaning on its wall, the Italian not really understanding but deciding to keep his mouth shut for once.
Neither of them had the strength to talk.
Neither wanted to acknowledge how awkward the situation was and just how bad it was going to get.
Alfred stared at the sky. The street was far enough from the city for stars to be visible. Not quite as much as you'd see on the road here, but it was enough. Some shined brighter than the others, some connected into constellations he remembered but couldn't put his fingers on, blaming the weariness of the trip. The sky was black, slightly navy around the stars. There were a few, barely visible grey clouds, adding to the atmosphere of the place.
Lovino looked around himself. Similar houses, some better kept than others. Only one had lights on and it were the one beside them, assumingly their destination. The grip on his heart tightened. He did not deserve to be here. He shouldn't be here. Why was he here? He looked at his feet, the shoes not rising in quality one bit. Around was slightly wet grass, maybe from a rain he hadn't noticed while asleep.
He was still surprised to not have been actually kidnapped.
There were a few tulips surrounding them, the houses owner keeping a little garden with them, roses, alstroemerias, peonies and lilies. Under his feet were white lilies, one trodden, Lovino almost feeling guilty about it. He glanced at Alfred's feet. Under them were either yellow or also white lilies, hard to tell in the dark. They did look different than the previous, so he'd assumed a different colour.
Snapped out of his observations by a sudden pull on the arm, he almost got loud again. Respecting the neighborhood though, he managed to shut up before anything else ensured, instead settling on throwing a grimace at the idiot next to him.
While he was trying to identify flowers in the dark, Alfred managed to move on from whatever episode he had, seemingly ready to face the situation, body steady, movement swift and certain. His face said otherwise though, in fact he looked like he were about to cry, but who was Lovino to comment? All he could do was pray the family doesn't kick him out.
They stood in front of the doors, an almost movie like chatter heard from the inside. Lovino wasn't sure whether it was arguing or flirting, but with that impression of Alfred's family he wasn't too excited to meet them.
Beside him, Alfred loudly breathed in, the miserable look on his face returning to a hopeful grin in a matter of seconds, before knocking.
It was impressive.
The chatter from the inside stopped, now only one voice apparent, making comments neither of them could decipher. For a few beats it was purely quiet, then slow footsteps made its way towards them, louder with each second.
Was the air around them dissapearing?
The doors opened with a slow, quiet squeak and in front of them stood, if Lovino were to guess correctly, Alfred's father. His hair were only slightly more blond, the rest in full view practically the same although there must have been differences, some only visible after looking for longer than seconds. One, in personality, made itself apparent in a matter of just those seconds.
He glared at Lovino, then put even more anger into the stare while looking at Alfred, rolling his eyes and scoffing through the motion. He stayed quiet, straightening his back and keeping eye contact with him, arms crossed. Lovino's breath quickened ever so lightly, him following and copying the father's behavior unwillingly, lots of unsaid insults appearing in his mind.
Alfred chuckled, scratching the back of his head slowly with a sheepish smile. He glanced around them before finally speaking up.
"Hiii dad, how you doing? Um, late isn't it, long trip you know, you cooking something there? I can feel it, hm, on my skin, let me guess" before he did, he attempted to shove Arthur away only to fall back onto the sidewalk.
A light scoff. "You're not getting anywhere with that behavior" the man had a clear British accent, something his son seemed not to copy, which was odd. Instead of helping around, Lovino stayed in place, watching the situation with wider than he'd like eyes. "Mind explaining?"
Alfred groaned. "Lovino dude, meet my dad I guess" he stood still, hands in pockets, avoiding eye contact with either of them. "Dad, seriously, it's cold, we're tired, let it go for once"
Arthur's mouth narrowed, the glare somehow even sharper.
"You and who exactly?"
Then, another pair of footsteps were heard.
A second man turned from behind the previous, successfully shoving him away. This one seemed to be more similar to Alfred personality-wise which was clear from his facial expression alone and Lovino wasn't sure whether to be happy or angry because of that. Nevertheless, his shoulders relaxed.
The man gave them a wide grin, looking between them with a spark in his eyes Lovino couldn't decipher and blocking the other man with his arm, Arthur throwing insults at him and cursing the queen, for some reason.
"I agree, who's your friend Alfred?" he asked with obvious amusement, a very apparent French accent in his voice. Was he the second parent or not? Neither seemed to be American, now Lovino was questioning Alfred's nationality.
What he was questioning even more, was how did the both of them look like their kid's biological parents? Two men can't have children, can they? So how come? His head spiraled, whether from stress or confusion, neither could he tell nor bring himself to start caring. Instead, he fought not to cry from the knot in his stomach, which would be pathetic.
Arthur grabbed the French guy's long hair then harshly pulled at it, finally releasing himself from his grasp.
"What are you doing, you twat! Is there any brain cells left in your perverted head?" he shouted, moving further into the house. Francis snatched his head around, somehow glaring and pouting at the same time.
"Can you be nice for once, or physically can't do such? We have a guest, can't you see?" he also moved back, glancing at them once, making sure they get the memo.
"You're not one to speak about manners, you arse!"
As the argument kept getting louder, Alfred sighed with clear exhaustion, giving Lovino an apologetic look. He took the bags back up, motioning for the Italian to enter.
The thump the bags made when thrown onto the ground was still not louder than the two European's argument, its subject somehow moving itself to the existence of unicorns. Alfred quietly took off his coat, then moved to Lovino's, receiving a scoff which he by now learnt to ignore, placing the both of them on the same hanger beside the door which the American only now realised he hadn't closed.
"Told you so, dude. Chaotic. So, the British guy's my dad, you can just call him Arthur, I'm not sure, he's got this huge ego so if that's wrong he'll probably tell you" he pointed at the short haired, groaned and moved his finger to the other. "That's the other one, me and Mattie call him papa, I'm not sure myself where that came from" a short pause. "Can call him Francis" he ended the explanation with a shrug.
Lovino hummed in response, nodding, still too dumbfounded to find anything to say.
They stayed quiet for a few moments. Lovino kept his hands in the pockets, staring at the ground, hoping for an answered prayer, while Alfred's leg was shaking, foot going up and down as he watched the situation around him. Another obviously forced chuckle.
"Gonna take my stuff to my room, then we can take yours from the car and all that, okay dude? Get comfortable, no one will mind. Well, dad might, but papa seems to like you so it's good enough" he ranted with a shaky breath before running upstairs, leaving Lovino alone in a new, unfamiliar house, stuck in the middle of an argument between two somehow seeming to flirt in the middle of it older men.
Only few minutes of him nervously looking around passed before the argument stopped, Francis covering Arthur's mouth with his hand.
"So, Lovino, yes?" he asked, the smile awfully similar to Alfred's grin but somehow different. It was hard to place what the difference was, really, but it was there. Seemed more French. "Sorry for that, I'm gonna make late dinner and you go to the living room, okay?" he then mumbled something to Arthur, who finally relaxed and nodded, still finding enough brain to scowl at him during that.
"Right- all right" Lovino responded, chocking on his words. He took off his shoes and only then passed by the pair, towards what he hoped was the right direction. He could feel the stare they gave him.
Once finally there, he noticed another person laying on the couch with a teddy bear beside. They titled their head towards him, eyes lightly widening before giving a shy smile and a nod of acknowledgment, then back to looking at their phone. Lovino ignored that the guy was scrolling through random wikipedia pages, instead deciding to focus on his face.
Now that, that was definetly Alfred's brother, if not a sheer copy. His face structure was identical, the only difference being the eye colour, in the lamp's light looking more purple than anything. Lovino assumed they simply were darker than his brother's. His hair was also much more curly and slightly longer, glasses a little different, rounder and lighter frames, all that making his face look softer overally.
A flashing memory of Lovino punching Alfred's glasses away stroke through his mind before he was able to get back to reality. His guts seemed to tangle in themselves.
He sat down on the couch, it being much softer and having better quality than the car's seats, though that not helping in getting comfortable as he foolishly thought it could've.
The guy beside him seemed to stiffen, but Lovino ignored it. They were basically on opposite sides of the couch, it could just be a delusion. That's the brother Alfred mentioned, wasn't it? Mattie? He'd assumed that, with the way the American had mentioned him, he'd be a younger sibling, but that didn't seem to be the case.
How was Feliciano doing? Was he alright, was he worried? No, Lovino, you've already established that, stop. He's probably having the time of his life with his stupid German bastard boyfriend or fiance, he didn't care, without his pathetic older brother being a pain in the ass. Why was he thinking of him anyways? It's not like Feliciano was ever important to his life, they barely know each other.
The bigger problem was him. He always was an issue to his family, the person they'd invited simply because of shared blood that still didn't have the willpower to show up and now, to not be a pain, he landed upon being one to another? Complete strangers with no connection, no correlation, nothing, just because some stupid American taxi driver was too nosy? That was stupid, he was stupid, there's no going back now.
He felt himself getting hot.
Why would they let him stay here? Arthur was completely correct to be suspicious or, well, whatever he was. If Lovino was put in his position, would he agree to this? Then there was the Francis bastard who seemed so pleased at his presence it was almost scary. He seems to be the only one happy with his company. Arthur probably hates his guts, Mattie probably hates his guts and Alfred, he honestly didn't know.
This house was too warm, too pretty, too full to have him.
He didn't deserve to stay in such a house.
No, of course he did.
Maybe just not with these people of all.
The smell of champignons, chicken, onion, wine aswell as few other spices filled the house slowly. It was nice, soothing one could say and what most important, familiar.
Lovino's back straightened, head curiously moving to the side. He heard a light giggle, one like Alfred's, but much softer and quieter.
"Papa's been making this for an hour now. If you want a plate you need to be quick, Al always takes all of it" Matthew laughed, voice shaky. Lovino snapped his head towards him, by now forgetting the man was even there.
A plate? If he's correct this meal really is great, and he would definetly eat all of it. But should he really, in such a situation? He feels his hands tingling, brain getting ready to fight for the food like back at home but at the same time, the left parts of worry were louder than ever. No, they're gonna kick you out. On the other hand, he does deserve good food after such a trip, with such a person, not to mention he was starving, not having eaten anything since yesterday.
He didn't have much time to ponder though as soon enough, everyone was called to dinner, along with him, the table decorated and all dishes in place, along with space for him, water for him and a separate small bowl full of puree, for him.
Before he was able to even connect the dots, register there was any part of the dinner, well, for him, Alfred had managed to run down the stairs, sit down and already had his mouth full of food. It was almost funny, how such a thing would get him to have sparkles in his eyes. Though, that would be hypocritical of Lovino to say, he felt ones in his own.
Yet another chuckle, this time from the front. Seriously, what was with this family?
This time it was Francis, shooting his gaze away from Alfred with a theatrical gag and now staring at Lovino. Next to him, Arthur was giving the both of them side eyes, leaning back on the chair, not looking too fond of the meal. Or of them.
A chair squeaked beside him. Oh, Mattie. He forgot the man was here. He was given a shy smile before the guy also started eating, much slower, gentler than Alfred. Certainly less like a pig. His shaky hands could've also had took part in his skill of manners.
"Sit down and eat, mes chers!" Francis exclaimed, clapping his hands together. Arthur scoffed on the side, rolling his eyes.
Hesitantly, Lovino sat down. Slowly, carefully, unusually. He felt Francis still staring at him. Instead of moving, he glared at the food.
A fake cough. "I made a bigger portion because I figured Alfred would eat all, but that leaves it for you" the Frenchman repeated, his son sending him a pained look, not taking a break from eating during so.
"Yeah, hm, it's easy to make too much of it" he grumbled in response, touching the meat with a fork unsurely.
"I'm experienced enough to not make idiotie such as that"
"Well, yeah, but I know some who would" Lovino chocked out, the German bastard and his stupid vomit tasting sausage his brother had forced him to eat once appearing in his mind immediately.
Another chuckle. "Is that so? Do you also have any miserable cooks in your family?"
"Watch your mouth, frog!" Arthur poked Francis with the wet fork, frowning, mouth full of food in a comically similar to Alfred's way.
"You could say so…" he responded quietly, somebody else's image in his mind this time. His family? He'd probably be the worst one out of the bunch. It was always Feliciano's cooking that was praised, not his.
Silence fell. It's become a usual event for Lovino at that point.
Why was this happening so fast? All moments in life do. Why? Why did he agree to this? Why did Alfred's parents, or at least one of them, agree to this? If they were his parents. Apparently they were. Did Mattie not have a word to say? He was ruining this family's whole holiday plan. Why was Alfred so quiet, why would he suggest he'd join in the first place? He's eating fancy dinner in some stupid house in a different country than the one he'd been in just yesterday, house on which's doorstep he was almost thrown away from just few minutes ago? These people don't know who he is, he doesn't know who these people are.
Why couldn't life be one straight line? Why couldn't he just lay down and rest?
His phone rang, breaking the conversation Arthur and Mattie held, Lovino almost spitting the food out.
One look at the screen.
"Scus- Sorry" he chocked out, standing up from the seat quickly, feeling the blush on his face already. "I'm- I'm gonna go take this, okay" he added, appearing even more pathetic than beforehand.
Leaving the scene quickly Lovino didn't notice the signs of worry on Francis' face, the confusion on Matthew's, or the curiosity on both Arthur's and Alfred's, the latter's much stronger, much more obvious.
He entered a sort of terrace, a small backyard right in front of him, the house's light still apparent through the windows. This time there was no flowers, the grass only slightly visible, just as miserable as everything around it.
Lovino stared at the screen for a few seconds before finally picking up. He looked at the sky. For moral support, maybe? The stars were barely visible, gray clouds covering them. The air was cold and slightly stained, the food's smell as apparent as inside.
Swallowing slowly, he bared himself to hear whatever was thrown onto him.
Why in the hell would he ever decide to pick up? Idiot.
"Lovino, you finally answered! I was so worried, I missed you, where have you been?" the person questioned, an odd sharpness to their voice.
Lovino kept quiet, biting his cheek.
"Don't go around ignoring me! I worry and that's how you act?"
"What do you want?" he asked, voice shaking, quiet, almost a breath. He grabbed the side of his shirt, playing with it, feeling his hands sweating.
A short moment of silence, the man's breath visibly heard from the other side of the line. "I just asked! You've not come back in two days, I started to worry"
"Why would I?" he stopped fidgeting with the shirt, instead using the free hand to grab his stomach. "You piece of shit. Do you really expect me to throw myself to your arms, bastard?" his voice was still low, but this time having a fragile note of bite to it.
That's what always happened. Lovino knew who this man was, he knew from the start. He'd ignored it, tried to forgive him, but it always came back to the start in the end. It always ended with Lovino feeling bad and it was his fault. He knew it. But if neither of them could change, what was the point?
"I bought you a new coat since your last one was so greasy. I remembered you telling me about it. Come on, just tell me where you are, I'll pick you up, we'll watch your favorite soap drama or whatever else you'd like to do. We can cook dinner together too, I know how much that calms you down. Those days must've been rough, right?" this time he spoke completely softly, the worry in his voice clear, sending an ache through Lovino's body.
Maybe the man was right. Maybe he should just come back.
He had no place here, in this family's house. Really, who in the hell agrees to this, he just couldn't comprehend it.
He kept swaying left and right, not quite sure which leg to place the heaviness of his body on, not quite thinking about it either. He kept listening, ignoring the twist in his stomach at each word spoken from either of their mouths.
"My coat's fine" he simply responded, louder than before, not by choice.
"Fine fine, sorry" the man laughed. "Can't you accept a present for once and not be insufferable with it?" his voice quickly became sharper once again. "Please Lovino, stop this childish farce and come to me"
Unable to sort his thoughts out, Lovino started going back and forth on the patio, debating on whether to get to the ground or not. The grasses temperature coming with its wet state could be calming, couldn't it?
Moving slightly away from the house, he didn't notice a person inside it moving closer to him.
Alfred leaned on the door, trying to listen in to the conversation.
The face Lovino made when looking at the phone wasn't anything pleasant and now his body was nervously fidgeting, voice quieter than he'd ever heard from the Italian. It was worrying to say the least and he should take the burden of giving out a helping hand. He was a good person, that's what good people do.
"What, got bored with your side whore already?" Lovino snorted, the free hand grabbing his sleeve, once again playing with the material.
"Side whore?" confusion. Fake. Must be fake, right? "Whatever are you talking about?"
"Don't go around taking me for a forgiving idiot, jerk! Porca puttana… What do you want from me?!" this time he asked louder, confidently standing further away from the house.
"Don't make me repeat myself, this is getting nowhere. Are you getting pressed over that woman you caught me with? I explained already, that was just a one-off" his tone was steady, Lovino could feel the man straightening through it alone.
"You didn't explain shit, bastard!"
"You must've misinterpreted the situation, really. You always do. Let's meet and talk it out, shall we?"
Lovino glanced at the small fences around him. Would he be able to jump through them?
The man continued after a long, exhausted sigh. "Please, nothing happened. Really"
"Stop lying your ass off shithead, you told me just enough how much you liked that chick, eh? So maybe lay off and suck it up, I'm" he swallowed slowly. "I'm not coming back to you, I told you already"
"Oh, Lovino you sound hurt. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have used that tone. Are you okay?" the man mumbled carefully.
Another ache through his chest, another long breath in.
"I'm sorry Lovino, I'm so, so sorry. That won't happen again. I was being nice to that lady was all, I didn't enjoy anything, there was nothing going on between us, I promise. I love you and you only. You'll never catch me even looking at another person again, I promise, I promise!"
Silence. Lovino stopped in his steps, finding it unable to breath, and even more to move or even think of moving. In all truthfulness, he wasn't thinking at all.
"I'm hurt too, you know? You never give me anything Lovino. Never once did you want to even hug, never once did you agree to any of my ideas really. And it hurt me, just as much as you're hurting me now. Please don't be silent, Lovino, please"
He kept standing in place. Debating whether to listen to the man or not. He knows for sure he can't be telling the truth. Right? Right, no, of course not. But he can't just leave, he'd been stupid to think so.
Lovino is nothing. He can't do anything by himself. He has no money, no closer family, nothing. This man was what provided him life for such a long time. He'd be a fool to just let it go.
The house's doors opened harshly and before Lovino could react, his phone snatched from his hand, Alfred moving away with it carefully.
"Hell are you doing, bastard!?" he screamed but made no following movement, not finding the strenght or will to take action.
"Hello!" Alfred beamed, obviously not honestly. He gripped the phone, staring at Lovino.
"Who- Where's Lovino?" the man lowered his voice, talking slowly.
Alfred decided to talk even slower. "Hi, so, Lovino told you to leave him alone, do so, 'kay dude? Cause he told you multiple times, this is harassment ain't it? So like I'll call the police on you if you don't shut up. And also, he's fine and far away, okay? Bye!" he hung up, quickly blocking the number before putting the phone in his pocket and looking back at Lovino.
The Italian's eyes were opened wide, mouth shaking. His hands were put into fists, grabbing the air roughly, the rest of his body stiff. He stared at Alfred with uncertainty, but kept quiet.
It was, more or less, awkward. Very awkward.
Neither knew what to do.
Neither wanted to acknowledge it.
Slowly, carefully, Alfred walked towards Lovino, who backed off at first, then stopped. He put one arm over the Italian's shoulder, offering a very, very uncomfortable hug. Lovino's muscles relaxed ever so slightly, breath beginning to slow down.
They stayed like that for a few minutes.
Not one word was muttered through either of their mouths.
It had to. But it didn't.
The two were really, really unsure by the situation.
Lovino wasn't sure whether to be grateful or angry. In all honesty, he wanted to get back to his home. He'd thought of Italy, of his brother, even of the Spanish bastard who'd visit them once in a while. He hated every single one of them, but really? Having them around, now he wasn't sure whether he'd loathe it as bad as usually.
And Alfred, not once did he have to comfort a stranger over something like that. Comfort anyone, in general. He wasn't even sure if Lovino needed comfort. He was the one to tell the jokes and soothe the atmosphere, sure, but it never was him getting closer to anybody. But heroes provide comfort, don't they? He hoped his parents weren't watching the situation, but they probably did. Same goes to Matthew, though he always was a big question mark. Right now he just hoped that man would leave Lovino alone. He just hoped he had the strenght to help another person as much as he wanted to, even if he didn't know exactly how.