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The mistletoe still hung above the door.
Charlie didn’t know who had hung it there. His best bet was the French, though when he had asked any of them, he hadn’t gotten more than a shrug, a knowing smile or a giggle. Even if they hadn’t hung it up, they sure were the ones who enjoyed the scenes it caused the most.
Charlie hadn’t enjoyed the one between Arielle and Tahir. He was almost glad when the whole back-and-forth of flirts ended with a chaste kiss on the cheek. Could’ve ended worse for him – and better for Arielle, he supposed.
When he and Michele had walked underneath it and Charlie had pointed it out, Michele had given him a far less chaste kiss to the cheek.
He dwelled on thoughts like this and similar ones when he walked through the doorway and maybe it was the reason why he bumped into someone.
Someone’s shoulder hit his chest while his own nearly hit them in the throat. He coughed, stumbled and spun a little.
Once he was more stable on his feet, he turned around to look into who he had bumped.
The other person did the same.
Charlie grinned. They did the same.
“Ah, Mister Belfari. I didn’t see you there.”
“I noticed, but same goes. Funny, I thought if there would be a crash, it wouldn’t be on accident.” There was a twinkle in Francesco’s eyes and his eyebrows slightly furrowed.
Charlie snorted. “I swear, it wasn’t intentional on my end. I’m really not seeking to get myself into a mess again.”
“Oh really, isn’t that what you Irish do?” Francesco asked. The aggression had faded from his face. Now he wore a smug smile. It made it pretty easy to forget what other faces could lurk underneath.
“It is and I can’t guarantee you that we’re not going to do that. If you’re asking me though, I think the first person who’s going to get decked here is François if he keeps his bullshit up.”
Francesco laughed and Charlie couldn’t help but laugh a little with him.
Francesco looked up and his eyebrows shot up as well. “Oh, it’s that door, alright.” He looked back at Charlie with a grin and half-lidded eyes. “You’re sure that this crash wasn’t intentional?”
Charlie knew way too well that he shouldn’t take him up on it. His mouth however had always been quicker than his brain. He cocked his eyebrows once before he answered: “I’m going to say yes, but I’m not sure if you’re going to believe me.”
Francesco stared at him for a moment. “I’m not quite sure either, to be honest,” he said.
“Maybe that’s wishful thinking on your part, because you intentionally crashed into me,” Charlie replied. “Though I gotta say that this is a much more pleasant crash than the ones I had when I saw you last.”
Francesco’s eyes widened just before he burst into laughter. He didn’t stop when a voice from the end of the corridor called him.
“Franci! There you are!” Lovino said in Italian and walked towards him with brisk steps. Once he noticed Charlie, he spared him an irritated glare but nothing else.
Francesco still laughed after he had turned around to Lovino. “What’s up?” he asked in Italian when he eventually stopped.
The following exchange was too fast and too drenched in dialect for Charlie to understand. As he was in the act of turning around, Francesco spoke up in English:
“Hey, where are you going, Signor Higgins?”
Charlie perked up in surprise before he turned around, both eyebrows arched high. “You say that as if I’m not supposed to leave.”
“Aw man, are you really going to just leave me standing here, not addressing this?” He pointed up at the mistletoe. Lovino’s eyes followed his point before he threw Francesco a look that transitioned from shocked to resentful within moments.
Charlie couldn’t quite understand what Lovino asked him afterwards, but it might as well have been a colourful Italian way of saying “What the fuck are you on about?!”
Francesco laughed about it and said in English: “Hey, Lovino, calm down and listen to me for a moment, please. I know our first encounter with the Irish was … far from ideal, but that was because the Sicilians had dragged them into the picture.” When he had paused and said ‘far from ideal’, his look had spaced out with a wide grin and half lidded eyes. Charlie was convinced that during this moment he had recalled what had happened during their first encounter and how much he would’ve liked to punch all of Charlie’s teeth out for it. “But if we leave the Sicilians out of the picture, we could look at it from a fresh perspective.”
There were fast steps from the hallway’s end behind Charlie, which turned out to be one of the Bontades. “Charlie, what’s taking your damn ass so long?!”
Considering by how mad he seemed with him, Charlie was ninety percent sure it was Lorenzo.
Francesco tried to stifle his chuckle, while Charlie grinned and blinked once.
Lovino sighed before he told Francesco in English for all to hear: “I don’t think you can remove them, you can’t even remove O’Connel from Michele for one goddamn second. They’re either fumbling, necking or screwing – which I sadly have to fucking hear through these hotel walls.” His eyes had shifted from Francesco to Charlie and Lorenzo, who now stood next Charlie. There was a layer of scorn in Lovino’s look.
It was met by a glare from Lorenzo. His voice was more casual than the emotion in his eyes. “You’re just mad that your man ain’t here – and if he was, I have doubts you’d make him moan at night anyways.”
Francesco pressed his lips together, while his eyes were wide open and eyebrows perked up.
Charlie chuckled.
Lovino grid his teeth before he closed his eyes for a moment and snorted.
“Some people have at least a shred of decency left in their body. I’m actually surprised that you two aren’t already sucking faces like always,” he replied.
Lorenzo gave Lovino an irritated look which didn’t change a shade as he looked over to Charlie, whose look was between surprised and embarrassed.
“Wrong twin, Mister Vargas,” Charlie told him and Lovino rolled his eyes, before he shook his hand in a dismissive fashion.
“Whatever. C’Mon now, Franci, you wasted your time enough here already – “
“Yeah I wasted all of my time and I didn’t even get a kiss,” Francesco said and looked at Charlie with a pout.
Lorenzo beat him to an answer: “If you want a kiss, you can get it from me,” he said with a grin and Francesco laughed.
“Now that’s bold,” Charlie said and Lorenzo looked at him.
“You know what’s bold, you saying that when you’re still flirting with other men when you’re dating my brother.”
“I didn’t –“ Charlie bit his tongue. Lorenzo’s glare intensified, but a sparkle of triumph appeared in his eyes. The corners of his mouth pulled into a faint grin. Charlie continued: “I never had any intention of kissing Francesco, nor do I have any now. That was his idea and his alone.”
“Sure was,” Lorenzo scoffed.
“That hurts to hear,” Francesco said, a confused frown on his face but a smile on his lips. “Are you that afraid of me? Look at Lorenzo, he’s known me for far longer and he’s not as scared as you.”
“Now I’m actually thinking that you just want me to get closer to you so you can deck me,” Charlie said and Lovino laughed. Charlie rolled his eyes but continued with a smile. “Also, I just know Michele would be mad with me, not to mention Marco.” He looked at Lorenzo: “You should know best that Michele wouldn’t like it if you kissed him either.”
“You don’t get to lecture me on what I can and can’t do,” Lorenzo replied. “He wouldn’t be that mad, he doesn’t need to know anyways if you aren’t going to be a little snitch.”
“Oh, so he doesn’t need to know?” It came from behind them and Lorenzo winced. He turned around with an alarmed expression and hunched shoulders as Michele walked down the hallway.
Charlie shared some of the nervousness of Lorenzo, but couldn’t hide his smile.
“What don’t I need to know?” Michele asked with a smirk. Charlie tried his best not to chuckle.
“Nothing!” Lorenzo answered before he looked to Charlie and then pointed at him with his thumb. “Except Charlie’s been flirting with Franci!”
Now Charlie’s chuckle died before it could even reach his throat. “Excuse me?!” He asked him.
“What, is it not true?” Lorenzo snapped back.
“You’re really going to throw me under the bus like that? Really?”
“Since I heard the part about me not liking if you kissed some gent, I find it hard to believe that you didn’t also flirt with Francesco, Lorenzo,” Michele said and Charlie gave Lorenzo a smile that radiated ‘Told you so’. “Which doesn’t make it okay for either of you.”
“Makes it okay for either of you, what harsh words,” Francesco said. “Don’t go so hard on them Michele, it’s mostly my fault.” He stepped closer to Charlie and put one arm around him, which had Charlie and Michele jump. Francesco patted Charlie’s chest and for a second, he was afraid that his heart would stop beating. The next moment, he wanted to grab Francesco’s arm and elbow him in the face. “Not Charlie’s. Or Lorenzo’s, not his fault I’m pretty irresistible.”
“Franci, you don’t know where that’s been!” Lovino yelled, which broke Charlie out of his state of shock.
“Wow, rude,” he told him.
“Yes, I’m much more concerned where Francesco’s hands have been. I do know he’s gonna catch some of mine if he keeps his dirty paws where they are right now,” Michele said as he already strode towards Francesco with his hands balled into fists.
Before he could lay a finger on him, Lovino planted himself in his way and put his index finger like a warning in front of his face. “You better damn don’t, I don’t want any more pesky Sicilian or Irish germs anywhere near me,” he told him.
“Ah,” it came now from the hallway behind Lovino and interrupted him and Michele before they could go at each other’s throats. “I thought you were up to something stupid. Guess I was right,” Fabio said in Italian as he walked over to them.
“Oh yes, Franci is up to something really stupid!” Lovino answered in Italian, so fast it was hard to follow, and pointed at Francesco. Charlie couldn’t understand what he said afterwards, accompanied by furious gestures.
Fabio looked from Lovino to Francesco. He looked at the mistletoe and back to Francesco.
“Really? All because of that stupid mistletoe?” he asked him in Italian.
Francesco grinned, winked and pointed at him. “I couldn’t pass the chance up.”
Fabio sighed.
“The chance for what, for –“ Charlie couldn’t understand what Lovino said afterwards, but knew that probably was for the better.
“Mister Belfari, this is more physical contact than appropriate,” Charlie addressed his own problems instead. “Don’t get me wrong, I like that you can’t really punch me, but that’s about the only thing that comforts me about this.”
Francesco looked at him and Charlie hated that he didn’t hate it. If anything, he was even more beautiful up close and it wiped his mind completely blank. Even if he wanted, he couldn’t remember any of the angry or sadistic faces that he knew were also in this man.
“It sure isn’t appropriate in this company, but you didn’t say that it wasn’t desirable,” Francesco answered.
Now Charlie grinned at him, somewhere between nervous, ticked off and amused. “You really want me to get decked by Michele, if nothing else, don’t you? Is that one of your mind games?”
“Charlie, I wouldn’t deck you” Michele said. “I would and will punch Francesco, however – “ He put one hand on Lovino’s shoulder to shove him out of the way, but Lovino slapped his arm away instead.
“Hey, hey, hey, hands off, Michele,” he told him as Lorenzo had perked up and already leaped to Michele’s defence, who gently held him back. Fabio stood next to the two and looked as if he was ready to pull Lovino out of the line of fire any second now.
“Francesco’s already the victim here, a victim of his own sudden loss of good taste,” Lovino continued before he gave Francesco an irritated and miffed look.
By now, Charlie’s pulse rang in his own ears and his hairs stood on end. He tried to disentangle himself from Francesco in a manner that wouldn’t turn out to be straw that broke the camel’s back – and then someone’s nose.
Francesco didn’t seem to mind any of that. He shrugged and still stared at Charlie when he said: “I simply pointed out that you didn’t say that you don’t like it.”
Charlie winced and stopped his sidestep away from Francesco. He looked at his beautiful and serene smile, before he sighed and let out a breathless chuckle. “Well – Look. I’m not that desperate. I’m dumb, horny, impulsive … but I do try to not let that get the best of me,” he whispered.
“Ah, what a shame. I don’t try often enough, I guess,” Francesco said, pulled him close and kissed him on the lips.
“Franci!” Lovino yelled.
The kiss lasted for a second before Charlie jerked his head back, Francesco pulled his arm away from him and Lovino tugged on his other one.
The very next moment, Lovino had grabbed Francesco by the collar and pulled his face very close to his own before he began to rant. Judging from the grin on Francesco’s face, he had either anticipated that reaction or laughed it away.
“Aww, rats, that could’ve been me,” Lorenzo said. Michele, who already looked shocked and upset, gave him an especially furious glare and said something in Sicilian before he turned to Charlie.
“What the hell was that?!”
Charlie’s head spun. “I can’t tell you either, if I’m honest!”
“You can tell me why you didn’t pull away earlier!” Michele said. “Seriously, what was that?! Why did you let him touch you in the first place?!”
Charlie looked over to the Italians, where Fabio had separated Francesco and Lovino already and, judging from his tone, was being the voice of reason. Hell would freeze over before he could expect that kind of help from Lorenzo, who instead grinned like a Cheshire cat.
“Hey, hey, I was the one being kissed, I didn’t kiss him! What’s that victim blaming here?” he defended himself. “And I’ll have you know, I tried to get away!”
“I’m not mad with you about that kiss, I’m mad that you let your guard down like that! Why are you all more naïve than the virgin Mary?! It’s Francesco, I don’t care how pretty he is, I don’t care how friendly he is, I don’t care what a good sport he is, he’s just using that to use you! And his bloody ego doesn’t need any more feeding!” Michele talked himself into a rage. “If you believe his words of paradise, you’re never gonna see it! Is it really that hard to see that he just says shit and does shit because he knows he can get away with it –“
Charlie still didn’t know who had hung the mistletoe, but he wished upon them being chewed out by an enraged Michele until their ears rang.
As the French and Germans sat together in the hotel’s pub this evening, Ludwig sighed. “Alright, I’m taking this stupid mistletoe down tomorrow. Or even better, tonight.”
“What? Boo, don’t be such a killjoke,” Désirée said with a grin and a surprised frown on her forehead.
“I’ll gladly kill this joke, because it has been killing my nerves. It’s only causing fights that I thought we had wanted to avoid with organizing this whole thing,” he replied.
“Au contraire, mon cher, it’s only causing fights that would’ve happened anyways,” François said and Ludwig gave him a peeved stare. “Aside from also causing some moments that bring us closer together. And that’s what we wanted, isn’t it?”
“You know what, I actually think it’s better if these arguments erupt like that instead of during any meetings,” Gilbert said. His chin rested on his hand while his look spaced out towards the ceiling. “We should actually get something like a mistletoe, but instead of having to kiss whoever you meet underneath it, you have to fight them.”
“Gilbert, we absolutely shouldn’t,” Ludwig told him while Katta and Selim had already erupted into laughter. “That’s an even more terrible idea than the mistletoe is already.”
“I love it!” Selim said. “Just cut the talking and get straight to it. That’s what I call German efficiency.”
Gilbert cackled.
“I haven’t kissed anyone under there anyways, but nearly punched a bunch, so it’s no difference for me,” Katta added and looked at François for a second when she said ‘nearly punched’.
Ludwig buried his face in his hands.
“Oh, I thought I heard you let some Italians kiss you,” Arielle said to Katta who snorted and shrugged. “So I think this mistletoe is doing its job just fine. There’s no beauty in fighting … but there sure is in the way words and glances can build people up as well as quietly corrode them and those around …” She grinned, her white teeth shining between her dark lips.
“I’d be in favour of more punching, though!” Désirée said. “We should have both! A normal mistletoe so Arielle can keep hitting on Tahir and one for fighting! It’s just no fun to watch some people argue or flirt underneath there, but it’s always funny to see people trying to knock each other out!”
Gilbert waved his hand, his grin unwavering. “Bah, humbug! We don’ need beauty or fun, but an efficient way to solve all these conflicts here! German efficiency, as Selim said, not your French live, love, laugh junk!”
“Ugh, you Germans even manage to suck the love out of Christmas, how terrible of you,” François said.
The next day, the mistletoe hung no more above the door.