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In Rome, America stood out like a sore thumb. He was wearing a casual polo shirt, a sun visor, khaki cargo shorts, and open-toed sandals as Veneziano and Romano showed him various spots throughout the city. He even had a fanny pack and a camera worn on a strap around his neck! If his appearance didn’t give him away as an American tourist, his loud, booming voice surely would have.
Feliciano didn’t mind escorting Alfred around, even if he was conspicuous and loud. America was so enthusiastic about everything he saw that it was honestly hard to find fault with him. It was sweet, if a bit excessive. But Alfred was so enthusiastic that it was clearly beginning to get on Romano’s nerves, even though Savino was the one who had invited his boyfriend to visit him and sightsee in Rome in the first place.
At the Vatican, Alfred had snapped so many pictures he would have surely run out of film if his camera hadn’t been digital. While Savi was trying to steer him away from the pickpockets lurking outside, he managed to get a photo of the pickpockets too. Then, at the Colosseum, he’d not only taken pictures of the ancient amphitheater, but also gotten in line to pose for a picture with a “real-life gladiator” (despite Romano rolling his eyes and pointing out that gladiators didn’t exist anymore and Veneziano informing him that he could get a photo taken with someone else dressed up like a gladiator without spending so much money). Finally, when they reached the Spanish Steps, America took several pictures before running halfway up them to take photos of some random people who happened to be sitting on them.
This was when Romano finally lost patience with his boyfriend. He marched up the steps, gesturing angrily. Feliciano hesitantly followed, hoping that the impending argument wouldn’t go too badly or attract too much attention. “Jesus Christ, Fredo! What the fuck is with all the pictures?!”
Alfred slowly lowered his camera with a confused expression on his face. “It’s a vacation, Vinny. Taking pictures is kinda what you’re supposed to do.”
“I get that. Truly, I do. But taking photos of pickpockets, fake gladiators, or random people sitting down on the Spanish Steps is not what a normal tourist does! All of these beautiful sights around you, and you go and—”
America lifted his camera again and pointed it straight at Romano’s face to take a photograph. Savino blinked, startled when the shutter went off. Feliciano hid a smile behind his hand as Romano narrowed his eyes.
“I just fucking said—”
America lowered his camera and shrugged. He had a proud grin on his face. “You told me to take pictures of beautiful things, so that’s what I’m doing.”
Romano was still scowling, but his fierce blush and heart-shaped curl gave him away. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Maybe not, but you’re the most beautiful thing in this entire city.” Alfred lifted his camera back up to snap more pictures of Savino. “The most beautiful thing in every city, actually.”
The people Alfred had been photographing earlier started to laugh and nudge each other. They might not have known English, but the language of flirting was international, and America and his brother were an obvious example. Savino’s lips twitched, and despite himself, he couldn’t hold back a smile.
“Damn it, Fredo, you can’t say things like that when I’m trying to be mad at you.”
“Oh, that’s not even my best line. When we get to the Trevi Fountain, I’m only gonna need two coins. Go on, ask me why.”
Feliciano giggled, because he knew exactly where this was going. Savi did too, judging by his half-exasperated, half-fond sigh. “Why will you only need two coins?”
“Because, honey. I’ve already fallen in love with you!”
Two women nearby, who obviously understood English awwed at America’s comment. Feliciano couldn’t blame them. Alfredo and his brother were pretty adorable. As much as Alfred could get on Savi’s nerves sometimes, he was the only person who’d ever made him smile like that.
Savino tugged on his boyfriend’s hands to pull the camera down so he could kiss him firmly on the mouth. The kiss only lasted a couple of seconds, but when it was over, America and Romano were both blushing messes.
“Ti amo anch’io,” Romano muttered quietly. “I appreciate how excited you are to be here, but can you try to calm down with the picture taking? At least a little?”
“Okay. I’ll calm down and only take pictures of beautiful things. For you.”
For the rest of the day, America still took more photos than any reasonable person, even an American tourist, would have. But he was taking photographs of the sites Veneziano and Romano showed him, not random people at those sites, which seemed to put Romano in a much better mood. Alfred would occasionally take a picture of Savino, even when he was in the middle of speaking or just walking to their next destination, and Romano was much too flattered to tell him not to. Feliciano thought it was sweet, and he was glad Savino was with someone who thought he was beautiful enough to take a picture of him about every five minutes.