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“I hate you.”
“Shut up and turn the light off!”
“You do it, this is your fault!”
“But what if the scary bruja grabs me? I’m literally Spain, she’d totally kill me for what happened to her!”
“You should’ve thought about that before you told me to put that film on!”
“I didn’t know it was going to be about a witch who cursed her land because she got caught and murdered during the damned Inquisition!”
Gilbert gave a huff and flicked the duvet cover off of himself and clambered to the end of the bed, trying to reach for the light switch on the wall. They had already done the whole ‘flick off the light and run and scream and panic until you reach the next safely lit room’ together, which had resulted in Gilbert nearly tripping over a rug and Antonio then slamming into a door frame as he tried to get into the bedroom. They had both stumbled onto the bed (thank God they had already gotten into their pajamas ahead of time) and had lay down together for a good minute—only to realise the bedroom light overhead was still on.
Frankly, Gilbert couldn’t believe this was how their last night of their weekend was going. They were supposed to be having a romantic time together, but instead, they had now been reduced to terrified masses huddling for safety in Antonio’s bed, because the idiot had insisted they watch a horror film together and it had been far more intense than he had expected.
Not that the rest of the long weekend that Gilbert had been in Madrid had been unromantic.
On Friday he had flown in from Berlin, and the pair had enjoyed a meal out together before they had gone for an evening stroll around the Ópera barrio, past the Palacio Real and down towards that random Egyptian temple monument that existed (‘Debod’). On Saturday, they had ventured to El Retiro (sadly, the colder weather meant the lake boats were not available to rent, but they had continued to walk to the Palacio de Cristal and had instead befriended the tortoises living in the pond in front of the glass structure), and as the day had gone on, they had gone shopping around Sol, before watching the sunset over the city whilst riding the cable cars from Parque del Oeste across to the outskirts.
As for that morning, Antonio had successfully dragged Gilbert out into the campo and taken him horse riding in the mountains around the capital. It had been a surprise for Gilbert, who had only found out what they were doing when they arrived on site, but the views of the sierra had been worth the Antonio-led ride along rocky paths. It had thrown him back in time for a brief moment, to distant memories and distant countries and distant people… but he was soon reminded of where he really was when Antonio had stopped them for a break, and they had had some food and a cheeky beer whilst out in the privacy of nature.
After all of that, it had been straight back to Antonio’s apartment near Cibeles, where they relaxed, had dinner, and had put on a film at Antonio’s request.
A horror film.
Gilbert loved Antonio, he really did, but his little addiction to horror films and horror stories was verging on unhealthy when it felt like each jumpscare brought them closure to having a full-on heart attack. Nations or not, it wasn’t fun. And the film Antonio had chosen was one of the more intense horror films that he had asked (forced) Gilbert to watch with him in quite a long time, to the point where the Spaniard himself—who could usually brush off the paranoia after ten minutes of the credits rolling—was still feeling quite startled (even more so than Gilbert, quite possibly).
It didn’t help that the film’s ghostly antagonist had been a witch killed during the Spanish Inquisition, a period that Antonio still had vivid memories of in spite of the passage of time, and that the idiot had now gotten it into his head that, what if they’re real? What if they had created vengeful spirits, and so many of them? What if all of his land had been cursed?
So there Gilbert was, trying to reach for the light switch from the safety of the bed so no one had to risk their toes to the demons under the bed. How lucky it was that he had found a stray shoe on the floor, had braved himself to grab it, and had a good enough aim to hit the light switch on his first attempt. Antonio asked what the hell the thudding noise had been, but Gilbert had told him to not worry about it as he slunk back under the covers and into the safety of a warm embrace. He tucked himself under the other's chin, close to his chest, and wrapped his arms around him tight.
Antonio did not protest to the sudden clinging; it was always endearing and incredibly sweet when Gilbert did something like this, attaching himself, letting them tangle together, being a little more vulnerable and gentle around him when there were no eyes watching them. Though he had to confess, he wasn’t sure if he enjoyed being more exposed to the open air while Gilbert enjoyed being covered by a duvet all the way up to his neck. He could feel a small draft. He could also see more of the room, where the side of the bed he was lying on led on to more open space, the dotted tall plants, and the sheer curtains out to the balcony. It may have been dark but evil things lurked in the shadows.
His situation was not made any better considering that he couldn’t move now that Gilbert was clamped to him. Once the Prussian had made himself comfortable, he had made himself comfortable; there was no budging him. But at least, he supposed, he hadn’t yet fallen asleep. As they stayed like that and held firm their embrace, Antonio took to carding his fingers through the other’s hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. Judging by the subsequent humming, Gilbert appreciated the gesture, the comfort, the affection. He’s such a softie. It was like having one of those big plush bears that you bought to replace a human because you missed having a body in the same bed, but… Gil was the body, just like he was the bear. Did that… make sense…?
All the while, legs had a little shuffle around and rearranged themselves. Antonio actually jumped when Gilbert had first moved, purely because he hadn’t expected to suddenly feel skin moving against his own. He had had to remind himself who it was and that there was no scary witch lady in the bed as well—no one who would try to strangle him in the middle of the night (well, he had to hope Gilbert wouldn’t sprout such an urge, but people could become possessed, so…).
That was when Gilbert mumbled something. Antonio had to ask him to repeat himself, and the Prussian lifted his head and turned it away so his words were not muffled: "Can we lie on our sides?" he asked. "No offence to you, but a pillow is softer to rest my head on, as lovely as it is."
"Oh— Sure," Antonio replied. Both of them loosened grips, just so they could roll over onto their sides and get comfortable again. "In all fairness," he added whilst Gilbert looped an arm over his waist and slipped a (cheeky) leg between his thighs, "I am the one used to sleeping on you, so no offence taken."
Gilbert gave a content sigh and uttered against Antonio's shoulder: "It's cute when you take a nap on me."
"Yeah, until you need to go to the toilet and you shove me onto the floor…"
"That was one time, and you were awake; you were just being stubborn and didn't want to move."
"You were warm, and I was enjoying listening to y—…"
"To…? What?"
Antonio softly clicked his tongue. "Listening to your heartbeat," he finished begrudgingly. His view was now of the rest of the bedroom, the curtains, the balcony doors… He wasn't sure if he saw a shadow move in the dim moonlight or if it had been his imagination but he tore his eyes away and looked instead to Gilbert, who he could just about see was looking back at him with a… quizzical gaze. "What?"
"No, nothing…" Gilbert said with a sniffle, which was a nice little indication that he was lying—that it wasn't nothing. "I just… have never heard anyone ever say they like the sound of a heartbeat."
"It's comforting; it reminds me you're alive."
"Well shit, I don't know if that's sweet or kinda dark."
"What I mean," Antonio amended, before his reputation as a romantic suddenly turned macabre, "is that you're alive and with me. That the heart I hear is a big and special one that, for some strange reason holds a place for me, and— You know what, it sounds stupid… Ignore me, I'm just tired…"
Gilbert disagreed. He ran his hand gently up and down the Spaniard's back and said: "I don't think it's stupid. I mean, it's different, but not stupid."
If there was a suitable comment to make after that, Antonio could not think of it. Instead, he let Gilbert continue to rub his back and dropped them back into a steady sea of silence, a kiss against the other's forehead a sign of closure on the topic. He curled an arm over the other so his hand came around the back of Gilbert's head so he could continue to play with his hair as he had done beforehand, and his eyes were left wandering, floating across their dark surroundings.
Antonio really hated that film. He also loved it, because it was refreshing to find a film that could really get to him. But he also really fucking hated it for that exact same reason. The streetlights outside his apartment reached up to his balcony and barely lit it up behind the curtains and doors. It wouldn't have been so bad if Antonio had shut the shutters (the clue was in the name, for God's sake!) but he hadn't, and there was no way he was getting out of bed now just so that he wasn't left staring at different shadows both outside and inside his room. Gilbert had it easy. His back was to the light and he had Antonio to hide against. Antonio, on the other hand? Totally exposed. Totally, totally exposed, and at the mercy of this new and unfamiliar paranoia.
He suddenly jumped out of his skin. Gilbert jumped too as a secondary reaction, and he cursed Antonio for startling him, before asking what was wrong.
"I felt something against my foot," he said.
"Like what?"
"I don't know. The sheets, maybe?" Or a witch hand. "It tickled…"
"That's… fun for you…"
"Why is it fun for me? What if it tickles you next?"
"Don't— Don't say that, you're just going to tempt it!"
"Yeah, not so fun now, is it!"
"Shut up! Come on, just… tuck your legs up a bit away from the edge of the bed," Gilbert suggested. Antonio did not hesitate and simultaneously fastened his arm around the other, needing him desperately to be that comfort bear. "That's it, good," the Prussian said as they settled, "we've got each other, yeah? Perfectly safe!"
That didn't mean it felt much better. Antonio closed his eyes so that he didn't risk seeing anything unsavoury out of the corner of his eye, and he gently squeezed the other for that constant consolation that he wasn't alone, that Gilbert was there. No demons would get him tonight whilst he had his lucky charm with him. He hoped. Prayed. Begged—
"You are thinking way too loud," Gilbert quietly chided, bringing Antonio's train of thought to an emergency stop. He pried open an eye against his better judgement and glanced down at Gilbert, who had nestled himself comfortably against his neck—he even kissed it in an attempt to ground him. "This has really gotten you all worked up, hasn't it…?" he asked. He sounded genuinely concerned. That should not have surprised Antonio so much, but then… "I'm not having this," Gilbert declared quite suddenly. Alarmingly.
Antonio thought for a moment he was going to leave him alone, or tell him off for being so ridiculously sensitive and childish. He would have understood. It would have taken it. Gilbert even let go of him, and Antonio readied to be abandoned. But Gilbert didn't. Rather, he released his hold on Antonio and actually moved himself—repositioned where he lay so he was turned more onto his back, head on pillow, his arms open to the brunette. Antonio had just about been able to make out the shapes of arms. They were in the shape of an invitation, a welcome…
"Come here," Gilbert said to him, making grabby hands until Antonio got the message and moved down lower so their roles had effectively reversed. The Spaniard settled his head against Gilbert's chest, finding his heart already beating for him, beckoning him to listen, and hugged the other tight while Gilbert trapped him in his own arms, too. "There. Safe and sound," he stated, nuzzling down against Antonio's hair. "Now if anyone wants to mess with you, they have to answer to me. Demon, witch, ghost—I don't care."
Something about that made Antonio's heart flutter and twirl. "You'd really fight the supernatural to protect me…?" he questioned—the first time he had ever asked such a thing in the history of all of his relationships.
"Of course I would," Gilbert assured him, "and I know you would do the same in a heartbeat."
Antonio smiled and leaned up to kiss Gilbert, just shy of his lips (he couldn't reach that far, but the intention was there), before he settled back against the other's chest. In a heartbeat, he promised. His ear pressed against the other's skin and tuned in to that private radio station that played the same song on repeat, and he closed his eyes so that the rhythm could swallow him whole and hold him tight.
Antonio had fallen in love with Gilbert over the course of so many years; but it was with the thump of a single heartbeat that he had realised just how much Gilbert loved him back.