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Gilbert had been made a fool of. Stripped of his title “the Great Prussian” all because he didn’t want to try some shitty wine. Despoiled of his glory and grandeur that he worked so hard to upkeep.
And those two idiots would never let him live that event down until he died. Every time the three of them were at a social event or just out in public, those two would somehow bring up what happened that night and laugh it off like it was some big joke, Francis’ annoying “honhonhon” and Antonio’s snorty “jajaja” echoing through the place as Gilbert would cover his face out of embarrassment.
He decided that after that day, he would avenge his honor and once again become the great Prussian he was meant to be. He would make a fool out of both Antonio and Francis, though that likely wouldn’t matter as they’ve been fools from the start.
Gilbert just had to execute his plan at the right time and place. There could be no mistakes.
Gilbert sat and thought. Gilbert didn’t exactly have a “plan”, rather, he had the concept of a plan. There were many things that he could do; however, he couldn’t choose one. The options that were available to him were too good to be true, and would most definitely result in his attempt to enact revenge being punched in the gut and thrown out without a second thought.
Gilbert knew Francis and Antonio as well as he knew his brother. Though those two were unpredictable and chaotic. Antonio was the chaotic one while Francis was the unpredictable one, which made things even more stressful for Gilbert. He rubbed his temples, mumbling something in German as he paced around his room.
Gilbert suddenly stopped in his tracks. He tapped his finger against his head like he was forming an idea. Antonio had mentioned to him a few weeks earlier about the Prussian’s garden and coming over to help clean and teach Gilbert on how to grow things like vegetables and fruits.
It was nice of the Spaniard to offer such a thing since he rarely made such offers. But then Gilbert would have to somehow work Francis in there as the Prussian didn’t want to punish just one person. He wanted to punish both of them. He wanted them to feel sheepish. He wanted to see them begging for more like he was that night.
Gilbert smacked his head, grumbling in an annoyed tone. He was getting ahead of himself, which was interfering with his thought process. But he liked that plan. Lull them into a false sense of security and then nab at their necks like a hungry wolf catching its prey. It was ingenious to Gilbert.
The Prussian waltzed out of his room, humming to himself in a joyful tone as he walked to the living room, sinking into the soft couch as he pulled out his phone, dialing a number and pressing the green “call” button. As he waited for Antonio to pick up, he was imagining all the humiliating things he could do to them. It made his heart skip a beat just thinking about it.
He soon heard a croaky, high-pitched voice yawning out “¡Hola!”, who dragged out the “a” vowel.
“Guten Abend, Toni! Zid I call while you were ztill zleeping?”
“Hmmh, you did… Why are ‘ya callin’ me when it’s so late at night?”
“No reazon zpecifically. Do you remember when you offered to come to maiplaze to help mai with mai garden?”
“Mmhmm! Well- yer “garden” looks like someone dug a bunch o’ holes and tried passin’ it off as a garden…”
“No need to be zo ruze, Toni. Jedenfalls, I waz juzt wonzering if you wanted to come ovah und halp mai with zat.”
“Eh, no hace falta preguntar, Gil! ‘Ya know me. I’ll do anythin’ for anyone as long as I get somethin’ out of it.”
“O’ courze I know you, Toni. Zat’s why I’m azking you to zo it for mai. I waz alzo wonzering if you coulz bring ‘long Franciz.”
“Why bring him along? The way ‘ya were talkin’ ‘bout it, it sounded like ‘ya just wanted me to come over.”
Gilbert paused for a moment. Shoot, he probably should’ve worded it differently. Now Antonio might be getting suspicious. “Nein! Nein, I never zaid zat. I meant to zay zat if you and Francis come ovah, ja, za time it zake for you to get za work done will be cut zorter zan evah!”
Antonio sounded like he was trying to hold in a laugh. The amount of z’s Gilbert’s accent was enunciating made his voice sound like that of an alien’s. “…Anyways. Sounds fair ‘nough. I’ll ask François about it, though, ‘m not sure he’d love gettin’ in the dirt. You know him n’ bein’ so clean ‘ll of the time.”
Gilbert nodded, scoffing at the mention of the Frenchman. Francis wasn’t that big of a clean freak, though he was very keen on keeping everything in the best condition that it could be in and would go crazy over seeing the smallest scratch.
“Ja, ja, I know how much ze likez zaying clean. I’ll be zeeing you later, Zen, Toni. Bis später!” Gilbert said in an ecstatic tone.
“Te veo, Gil—” Gilbert heard Antonio yawn louder than last time, and soon after followed the sound of a static beep.
Gilbert dropped his phone to the side, happily sighing as he pridefully crossed his arms. He knew Antonio as a “yes-man”. That Spaniard would never turn down anything, especially gardening, because that was one of the things he cared about the most. Antonio was also easy to convince as he’s used to
Gilbert exhaled out of his nose. He knew he would have to concern himself with the Frenchman, because as much as he likes being around Francis, Francis asks millions of questions, wanting to know every single detail and molecule of something as if he would die if he didn’t know. And since Gilbert had fumbled with his words earlier, Francis’ll probably ask even more questions.
For now, though, all Gilbert could do was smile and stare at the ceiling. In no time, he’d have gotten his satisfaction out of those two’s numbminded selfishness, as well as getting a rise out of himself at the same time.
————-
A gloved hand dug through a pocket, pulling out multiple packets of seeds labeled “Beets”. A shovel dug through the fertile soil, laying out each beet seed in equal distance from the other to make sure there was no interference as the beets grew over time. This process was done over multiple times, and as soon as the Spaniard was done with the main problem, which was planting all those seeds individually, he moved onto getting rid of all the weeds and overgrowth that surrounded the garden.
While Antonio was doing all the dirty work, in a closed-off space of the garden, Francis and Gilbert were chatting with each other, drinking tea like they were two middle-aged moms gossiping over work drama and ex-boyfriends.
Before that, Francis had promised Antonio he would help him with reshaping Gilbert’s garden, but he never sticks to his promises, so there he was laughing and enjoying his time with Gilbert while Antonio was hunched over, sweating bullets, bending his knees like never before to get a small chunk of weeds out while most of them were still stuck in the soil.
Antonio had made great progress even though no one was helping him. He worked his way from the smallest weeds up to the largest ones alongside getting rid of the overgrowth. He was moving all over the place, never staying in one spot.
“Christ, Gil really didn’t care ‘bout this place at all…” Antonio whispered under his breath in a frustrated tone, seeing that a section of the garden had been consumed by overgrowth.
Antonio stared at the overgrowth in silence. An annoyed silence. He wasn’t angry that there was a bunch of overgrowth there, as he’s dealt with things like this in the past. He was angry at Gilbert, who hadn’t even bothered to take a look around the garden and warn Antonio of what he should expect.
Despite his current situation, the Spaniard didn’t concern himself with fussing about it to Gilbert as he didn’t want to get told off or be treated as a joke. Both Gilbert and Francis were big teasers, but the way Gilbert would tease Antonio would make a shiver go up the Spaniard’s spine every time with no fail. Gilbert wouldn’t just poke fun at Antonio’s fashion style or his accent—he’d try and make it so it made Antonio feel like he was always doing something wrong, even if he was actually doing something wrong. He’d berate the Spaniard like he was a pet. Something he could control with ease and without complaint. “Submissive” was the word Antonio was looking for.
I… I don’t know if I enjoy when he’s mean to me or not. More likely than not, there’s something messed up with me inside. Antonio pondered, running a gloved hand through his sweat-covered hair. He blinked, snapping out of his fantasy dream world. He had better, more important things to focus on. He had been letting his thoughts consume him rather than getting work done. Antonio took a deep breath, walking towards the overgrowth while cracking his knuckles, preparing for the mess that waited up ahead.
————-
Francis took another sip of the herbal tea that Gilbert had set out for the two, trying not to gag. It was chamomile. It had a pungent odor that reeked of smoke and earthy materials. He was not a fan of chamomile, especially the German kind. He was trying his best not to spit it out every 2 seconds because it smelled that bad to him. Gilbert, on the other hand, was finishing up his 7th cup of chamomile, completely ignoring the odor of the tea and getting ready to pour himself another.
“You ‘ink zat is ‘nough c’amomile for you, non?” France pursed his lips, tilting his head at Gilbert. The Prussian couldn’t be looking any better right now, as he looked like he was on a sugar high.
Gilbert shaked his head erratically. “N-Nein! Nuthing iz ever too maich for mei.” He exclaimed as his actions utterly contradicted that of his words, a sharp pain piercing through his gut, forcing him to grip his stomach while he hissed loudly.
Francis side-eyed him, the French man rolling his eyes as he spit out the chamomile and set it down on a nearby end table. He sat up, standing over Gilbert’s face as he gazed into the Prussian’s eyes. “Wil’ you be okay, or wil’ zat tea replaze your stumach acide like vow your b’ood stream vas been replased with beer?” Francis purred, leaning further down, putting his cold hands around the Prussian’s face as he poked and pulled at the other’s cheeks.
Gilbert’s thin white eyebrows slanted, though he didn’t complain. Francis was like this around everyone, flirty at first and then provoking once he saw your weakness. He could smell the stress coming off of someone’s body just as easily as he could ease someone into a false sense of security.
Gilbert was trying his best to hide it, not wanting Francis to find out about his plan. “Get off o’ mei.” He smacked Francis’ hand off of his cheek, swerving around the Frenchman's head as he got up out of his seat. He stretched, curling his arm as his muscles expanded. Francis leaned over the seat of the chair Gilbert had been sitting in, resting one of his hands on his chin and the other arm on the head of the chair.
One of Francis’ fingers had reached out to lightly drag across Gilbert’s muscles, but was immediately retracted and sat in its original position as Gilbert had turned around to face Francis. “Zon’t you have anyzing better to do zan annoy mai?”
Francis scoffed, retreating from the head of the chair, strutting towards the Prussian. He poked at Gilbert’s chest, his fingernails digging into the other. “Don’t try to act all innnozent. You annoy mei as much az I annoy you.” Francis rested one of his arms on hip, his spine curved as he continued to prick and poke at Gilbert.
Gilbert hunched over, his face mere inches away from Francis’s. His eyebrows furrowed, stepping away from his tough guy persona. “Really? Am I zat annoying to you?” Gilbert growled, his hands tightened into fists. Francis was seeing just how heated Gilbert had gotten from the two’s light dispute. A feeling of gratification ran through his body—Francis rarely ever saw Gilbert get as infuriated as he was right now, and he loved how Gilbert looked when he got mad. His crooked eyebrows creasing into his nose, the audible sound of his sharp teeth gritting together, and his muscles contracting and expanding sporadically as a cause of his enragement. Francis was staring dreamily into Gilbert’s eyes, not noticing that the Prussian had been yelling at him for the past few minutes. He had been so distracted by closely examining Gilbert’s features that he had disregarded the fact that Gilbert’s nose was now touching his.
Francis’s eyes widened, his smirk growing wider. Whenever he’s yelling like that, he looks just like his brother. Dieu, he’s so easy on the eye. Gilbert’s eyebrows furrowed even more. He became enraged knowing that Francis had barely been paying attention to him while he was talking. “Du gehst mir auf die Nerven,” The Prussian aggressively grabbed a hold of Francis’ wrists, bending them into a painful position as he slammed Francis’ back into a nearby surface.
A moan escaped from the Frenchman’s mouth, causing Gilbert to loosen his grip on the other’s wrists. He kept Francis pinned up against the wall. “You like it when I zo that, ja? You freak,” Gilbert snarled, pushing Francis further into the wall. The Prussian’s head got close and personal next to Francis’s ear, his heavy breath audible. Francis was trying to keep his composure, even though his body language was telling a different story.
“Call me a freak again. Pleaze.” Francis gasped softly, his knees locking together. Gilbert was amazed by how quickly Francis could get turned on. He was deriving from his original plan. He was too distracted right now to care about it. Gilbert wanted to see if he could make Francis drop to his knees in only a few touches to his skin.
“I’ll be doing more to you zan calling you a freak,” Gilbert mumbled, constricting his grip around Francis’s wrists and turning the other onto his stomach. He bored his teeth into Francis’s neck, running his tongue across the bleeding bite marks. He went from the Frenchman’s neck to his ear to other visible body parts of his, slurping the scarce amounts of blood that leaked from the bite wounds.
The only sounds that escaped from Francis’s mouth were moans that sounded like they had been stripped of all their oxygen. “R-Right zere…” Francis said in response to Gilbert’s teeth clawing deeper into a fresh bite mark left on the lower part of his neck.
Francis got himself into this situation and now there was no backing out of it. He wished Gilbert had given him a little foreplay. He most definitely could’ve flirted with me a little before thrusting his teeth into my neck, Francis thought to himself. He felt the untightening of Gilbert’s hands around his wrists and a cold feeling reaching into his underwear. The sensation of hot and cold made him feel even more aroused, though he was denied his excitement as the unexpected arrival of a familiar voice caught the attention of the Prussian, who took his hands out of Francis’s pants and walked away.
Francis whined in annoyance, following behind Gilbert as he eyed a dirt-covered Antonio. Antonio cheerfully waved to Francis, tilting his head curiously. He saw that Francis was looking a little disappointed. “What were ‘ya guys doin’ while I was busy?” Antonio said in an interrogative tone, as he never saw Gilbert blushing as hard as he was right now, same with Francis.
“Nothing zat should worry you!” Gilbert said, his voice sounding happier than usual. Antonio laughed awkwardly, not knowing if he should go further with his questions or leave it there. Before he could ask another question, Gilbert already had a hand on Antonio’s back and was pushing him towards the other’s house. He saw Francis sit back down at the garden table, sipping and spitting out the tea he always saw Gilbert drinking.
“Is it okay to ask where yer takin’ me?” Antonio looked up at Gilbert, who had a wide smile on his face.
“Zince you got rid of all of zat overgrowth en mai garden, I waz thinking about giving you zome zort of… reward… to zank you.” Antonio felt his heartbeat quicken. “What does tha—“ Antonio was cut off by Gilbert, who picked him up bridal style, opening and walking through the side door that separates the backyard and the kitchen from each other. Gilbert hurried to his bedroom, opening and slamming the door to his bedroom shut as he shoved Antonio onto his bed, now sitting on top of him.
————-
Gilbert tore off Antonio’s garden wear. He was left wearing a black shirt stained with dirt and his grey boxers, which was currently being caressed by Gilbert’s hand. A lump formed in Antonio’s throat as he felt fingers tracing the shape of his member, which became harder once the Prussian’s hands squeezed it tightly.
“I-I didn’t know this was yer way of rewardin’ me, Gil—“ Antonio attempted to crack a joke, but was cut off by the feeling of a sharp, sudden pain in his crotch region followed by a soft series of moans that came from the Spaniard. “Nnngh—hah—haaahh…” Antonio whimpered, sweat gathering on his forehead. The Prussian had gone from getting Antonio hard to biting his erection like a chew toy. Gilbert kept pressing his teeth down onto Antonio’s crotch, encircling his tongue near Antonio’s tip.
Antonio’s eyes were half-lidded. Sweaty tanned hands gripped the sheets of the bed, resisting the urge to tear his underwear off and shove his member deep down the Prussian’s throat. The back of his head sank into the pillows behind him, his eyelashes fluttering as the biting persisted. He then felt hands crawl up onto his hips, latching onto them as Gilbert’s tongue began to drag across his entire length instead of just his tip.
The rush of dopamine through his body hit hard. “Mmmgh—h-holy sh—shit, Gil…” Antonio couldn’t see it, but Gilbert glanced up at him with a sense of thrill distilled into his eyes before continuing to lick and slurp the Spaniard’s member through his boxers. Antonio’s member twitched at every touch, begging, frantically asking Gilbert through its movement to put it in his mouth and take it all in its form.
“I forgot how zenzitive you are, ‘Toni. Muzt’ve been a while zince you’ve been treated like zis!” Gilbert whirred.
Gilbert now removed his tongue and hands from Antonio’s body, focusing on getting rid of Antonio’s boxers. He slipped them off, introducing the other’s hard member to the cold air in the room. Antonio winced. He had gotten so used to the warmth of the Prussian’s mouth that he had forgotten that it was freezing in Gilbert’s bedroom.
Gilbert looked at Antonio one last time before placing his lips on the tip of the Spaniard’s member, licking it gently as his mouth worked its way down to his base. Gilbert’s mouth moved at a slow, grueling pace, never once taking his mouth off of the other’s member.
His cheeks hollowed in and out as he sucked and lapped up every inch that he could of Antonio’s, pushing a small amount of his tongue against a thick vein that ran from Antonio’s tip all the way to the base of his member. The Prussian noticed that it was a pressure point of the other, as Antonio whined and sobbed whenever Gilbert put his tongue there. No tears were shed; however, Gilbert could tell that from the noises Antonio was producing, he was close to releasing all of his love into Gilbert’s mouth.
Gilbert leered. He wasn’t going to let Antonio finish just yet. While Antonio was busying himself with digging his head further into the pillows behind him, his moans becoming scattered and his voice beginning to sound husky, his chest rising and falling in a quickened pace, Gilbert took his mouth off of the Spaniard’s member, and just as Antonio was about to reach his satisfaction, Gilbert had put one of his thumbs over the tip of Antonio’s member, gripping it tightly as he continued to smirk at Antonio.
Antonio’s eyes began to swell with tears, his entire body vibrating not even a few seconds later. “P-ple—ase… L—let me c-cum… P-plea—se, plea—se, plea—se….” Gilbert tilted his head, his body language telling Antonio that he wouldn’t be releasing anytime soon. “I nevez thought of you az a beggar, ‘Toni. Here, Let mai grab zomething real quick!—“ Gilbert reached beneath him to grab something, still keeping an impressive grip on Antonio’s member.
It was lube. Antonio felt the lump in his throat grow even bigger. Is he serious…? Antonio tried to move off of the bed, but it was a very stupid idea as Gilbert saw him and his grip on the Spaniard’s tip tightened. Antonio’s body instantly shot into an erect posture and returned to his original position on the bed as he winced quietly enough for Gilbert not to hear him. Gilbert sneered, a warning sign for him not to move as he undid his belt buckle and let his half-hard member rest on Antonio’s pelvic region.
————-
Antonio couldn’t help but stare at it. It was much bigger and thicker than his. It seemed to twitch every single second, just begging to enter Antonio and demolish his innards. And that’s about as close as Antonio was to what Gilbert was about to do.
Gilbert readjusted himself to where he was underneath Antonio in a Nelson hold. Antonio’s legs were bent back as far as they could, which was a bit painful for Antonio as he winced every so often from the ghostly sensation he was feeling in his member. Although his climax had faded away and Gilbert had taken his thumb off of the Spaniard’s tip (no cum had come out, unfortunately), no matter how much he tried to get himself to focus on something else, it was impossible for him not to direct his attention to his member. It felt like someone was slowly cutting it with a knife, though there was no knife to be spotted.
The Prussian grunted, heaving Antonio upwards as he felt a now-fully erect member rest against his. Antonio’s face prickled with blush, his arms instinctively going to cover his face. Gilbert nipped at them, however, so he forced them down to his sides as he watched the other’s lube-covered member slowly, excruciatingly slowly enter his rectum. Antonio choked down a moan, knowing it would be loud and painful and make his throat sting right after.
“G-Gil…” Antonio said in a shaky voice. He could feel Gilbert’s member touch every single inch of his rectum. As Gilbert reached an appropriate pace (that being as fast as he could possibly go), Antonio forced himself to tighten up his throat like when someone has an allergic reaction. “Yeah?” Gilbert finally responded, even though it had been more than a minute after Antonio spoke. He was most certainly enjoying this, as his member rushed in and out of Antonio’s rectum, running over his prostate multiple times as he pumped deeper and deeper inside of the Spaniard.
“C-Can you g—hhhh… go a l-little sl-slower…?” Antonio said through short gasps and whimpers, his face becoming a darker shade of red as he reeled his head back like he did before. Gilbert had a considering look on his face. “Mmmmm… neinnnn….” He blurted out in a carny, dragged out voice, making Antonio grit his teeth out of spite. How he was annoying like this but at the same time so attractive to others would be a question that Antonio could never answer.
Antonio needed to get his mind off of what was happening right now. His face was as red as a tomato, he felt like he was going to pop a vein, he was drenched with sweat from head to toe, and he was starting to feel numb in his lower region. All three things combined, plus Gilbert’s alluring voice, might kill Antonio right then and there. Antonio took a deep breath before shutting his eyes tight and trying his best to loosen the tightness in his body. His mind started to drift from one place to another, a feeling of comfortness entering his nerves.
His fingertips relaxed as well as his arms, and all of his other body parts followed. He felt much more at ease than ever—a soft bluish light entered his perspective from the left side of his face. He could still see it despite his eyes being closed because of the apparent brightness of it. It felt nice shining on his face, although you can’t exactly feel light. It was more of an insatiable, intangible glimmer that was just out of Antonio’s reach. He just wanted to grab it and hold it close to him. What would its texture feel like? Would it have any weight to itself? Would it be as big as this room or as small as my fingernail?
Antonio found himself asking more questions than finding answers. Not that he’d be able to find them out right now, given his current situation. But it was a thought-provoking concept, nonetheless. More obvious than not, light came from the sky, and the sky led out into who knows where. For him, the sky was like a layer of protection from harm and evil, shielding everyone he knew and himself from whatever was awaiting them out in their galaxy. But just because he believed that the sky protected them didn’t mean there were some faults at some intervals of time. Being immortal meant that he had basically lived through all of human history and most likely lived through the eras before humans had decided to walk this planet, though his memory felt hazy trying to remember that far back.
And it wasn’t like being immortal was a curse—
…
Antonio took that back. More often than not, immortality does feel like a curse sometimes. Sometimes Antonio wishes he could feel pain. Not the type of pain his body faked, no—no, not that. He wanted the type of pain that made someone scream out loud for help. If he was fighting someone and got stabbed by their sword, he’d want to feel the twisting and turning of the steel entering his body as it squished and morphed through his vital organs and he was forced to lay there and bleed out. Antonio wanted to bleed out. Immortality made him realize that everyone needs to die naturally at some point or else they’ll face the possibility of insanity. Immortality makes him realize that his longing for death will never stop persisting ahead of his true desires, of his end goal. If he’s lucky enough, he’ll die a prosperous and happy individual. If not, he’d rather go the longest and most painful, most gut-wrenching, the most drawn-out awareness of the fact that he was dying and he would enjoy it. He would enjoy the ever-increasing amounts of pain as his body would begin to fail on him, his limbs would begin to lose their warmth, his face would be drained of its color because he would be so overwhelmed with joy that he wouldn’t be able to smile. He would tiredly lift his head towards the sky in his final moments, hoping that whatever happened, he would be able to reunite with whomever he’s lost over thousands of years, being captured in their warm embraces as he took a quick glance down at his pathetic human form, then turning his head back as he joined his lost relatives in wherever above.
Antonio actually felt horrible about thinking about stuff such as this. It was like his heart ached whenever he remembered he was immortal. He wants to be like a normal human being—and they most absolutely can experience more emotions and sensations than he can. More than he could possibly think of. If he could be a human, just for a day, hell, just for an hour, at least, Antonio would inflict every form of pain and torment onto himself. He was so desensitized to pain that he longs for it. He needs something to beat him down, to teach him something.
He must’ve not noticed Gilbert biting the tip of his ear. Antonio snapped out of the daze he was under, his head turned in panicked swishes as he clenched his chest. Only harsh breaths escaped his mouth. Gilbert nudged him, leaning deep into his face as if he was drunk, which he might’ve been, now that Antonio thinks about it. Gilbert now rested his chin atop the Spaniard’s bare shoulder. “Zude… You werze, like, completezly pazzed out. Zid I strezz yeur body out too mich?” Antonio knew that Gilbert was trying to be concerned, but the condescending tone of his voice made it hard for Antonio to believe what was coming out of the other’s mouth.
“Y-Yeah, ‘m fine. D-Don’t worry…” Antonio’s breath still felt shaky. He attempted to get up, only to be met by Gilbert’s bulky arms crunching his ribs as the Prussian wrapped himself around Antonio. The Spaniard held his breath, only releasing it when Gilbert’s grip loosened. There was still a tightness in Antonio’s chest, which was making all of this hard to handle all at once. But he couldn’t worry about that now. He was more infatuated with Gilbert than he was his lungs.
Gilbert was acting like a dog right now. Except it was a slightly bigger dog who was clingy and didn’t know when to stop biting someone. Gilbert nipped and played with Antonio’s skin, though not in the way he usually did, which was more aggressive and aroused. It was like gentle kisses to Antonio’s neck. He was never usually like this, only when he felt like being nice to Antonio. A warm feeling grew in Antonio’s chest, his heartbeat quickening. This was hotter than he had ever been before. Antonio knows that he’s probably said this before, but he hates whenever Gilbert teases him. But sometimes, there’s just a slight chance, a small possibility, that Gilbert will caress and kiss and clench someone close to him, caring for them after all the intense intimacy that they’ve had. And Antonio seemed to like this more than anything Gilbert had ever done before.
“‘Toni?” A gentle voice passed through Antonio’s ears. He sloppishly turned around, now closer to Gilbert than he ever was. “Yes?” Antonio questioned. Gilbert sighed, then hesitated. It seemed like he was trying to find the right words, and it didn’t take him as long as Antonio had expected. The next words that came out of Gilbert’s mouth were: “I love you.”
Boy did that rip a few of Antonio’s heart strings. Usually Gilbert would say something mean or hurtful to dehumanize Antonio, but this time? This time was different. It’s like someone had factory reset Gilbert and changed his entire personality into kind and caring, which wasn’t like him.
But Antonio barely paid attention to this. His face tingled with anticipation, not expecting anything major. But he expected a nicer Gilbert out of all of this. “I love you too” were the last words that Antonio spoke before pushing his head into Gilbert’s chest and resting there, a smile growing on his face as he felt himself drifting off to sleep once again.