Work Text:
“Arthur! Long time no see!”
Arthur turned his head around, surprised at the sudden pat on his shoulder. The man who called gave him a warm smile, unbeknownst to his identity; his eyes brought a similar intention, shimmering in a tint of green that contrasted the other’s jumper: a darker shade of the same colour. Short, curly locks of brown made him quite pleasing to look at, topped with a round face that continued to bring a sense of warmth in his surroundings — at least, that is what he appeared to be.
Having seen him, Arthur slightly cocked his head down, furrowing his thick brows as a frown slowly formed on his face.
“What are you doing here, Antonio?” He groaned, pushing him away with his grip loosening against the soft fabric. The two have not been long acquainted in the past, rather, saw each other as arch-nemeses in the spirit of academics.
Just recently, Arthur had moved into a nearby apartment complex, sharing a room with Alastor: one of his older brothers. They did not necessarily get along either. Fighting over the smallest of things, giving childish glares, and yelling at one another from a long distance was all that came of them. Arthur’s relationships have never ended well, but he was so sure that one significant person would be thrown out of his life forever. The blond had smiled more ever since, much to his brother’s shock. However, it would go downhill with just a simple glimpse of his face in the current day.
“To study, of course.” Antonio replied back, pushing his tanned hands underneath the red pockets of his hoodie. “I didn’t expect you to be in the same uni either.”
Like a ghost, Antonio was fully ignored with Arthur walking once more to his destination, the other following.
“So how have you been?”
“Nice weather today, sí?”
“Have you gotten a new piercing?”
“...And you’re not saying anything. Right.”
The Spaniard could make out some muttered swears, before Arthur turned to the direction he was facing earlier and evidently stated, “I’m going to avoid you at all costs, whether you like it or not.”
He strengthened his pace and leaned forward towards the ending corridor. Antonio sighed, attempting to catch up to the grumpy Brit that stomped away.
“Can you at least look excited to see me just this once?” Antonio asked, following Arthur’s footsteps as they headed to the main building.
Only silence was the answer as they continued to shuffle across the many hallways that the building had introduced. Natural noises of chatter mixed along to the sound of shoes tapping across the floor sold all conversation between old foes into a pit of their own thoughts. It couldn’t help that it has been a little over three years since Arthur and Antonio’s last meet up; the same day where they had their junior year’s party.
It was best to start with a general question, and that was what Antonio did.
“Major?” He asked again, shifting slightly to Arthur’s side.
“International Relations,” Arthur finally responded. His eyes darted to meet Antonio’s, who was trying to hold a cheeky grin. “What?”
“Nothing, nothing.” He said, “I’m just… surprised.”
“Don’t.”
“Haha, sorry.”
Interrupting the current chatter, Arthur stopped on his tracks, pulling out his phone and checking the time. “I have a lecture in five minutes.”
“Chulo, I’ll drop you there if you want.” Antonio suggested.
“Bugger off. I’m going there by myself, don’t follow me.”
And that was it.
Arthur never looked back, nor did he care to acknowledge Antonio’s presence soon after that. He never intended to. But it was that sudden reunion that changed the mood, for better or worse.
Soon his mind would prioritise thinking about that encounter rather than his lecture. Well, microeconomics has not really been his go-to topic. Sure, he’s been enemies with Antonio since junior year, but it was not always like that. Funny enough, both used to have a stable friendship when Antonio just transferred to his school as a part of a one year Foreign Exchange Program, having a limited vocabulary of English in accordance to him being from Spain. Because of this, Arthur taught him English and in return, Antonio taught him Spanish. They had a mutual interest for various subjects, topping each and every one of their classes.
Arthur had always been considered a rebel in his younger days, pulling pranks on many of his peers and going against the dress code on multiple occasions. It was either that, or the school he was in was that strict. His inappropriate behaviour did not sit well with many of the people around him, but it was taken lightly due to his consistent grades. Similarly, Antonio expressed the same conscience; however, was more tame in comparison to Arthur, which Arthur took amusement in.
This did not last long. By the start of the second semester, their friendship had deteriorated to a loud feud of exam scores and trophies. The two have made their separate ways from then on with Antonio growing increasingly popular as the days went by, in direct proportion to Arthur’s rage since then.
Though, he never really understood why he felt that way, especially thinking about it in the middle of his professor’s discussion about supply and demand. Was keeping his jealousy to himself the proper solution to his past actions? Did arguing with a seventeen-year-old Antonio bring any benefits? He thought about it, staring at his laptop screen as utter nonsense scrambled into parts of his head and document.
Yet still, there was this overwhelming worry that continued to draw him into Antonio’s life. Arthur wondered if he used the same study methods as him, if he memorised it all instead of understanding, if he cheated to the top, if he slept well, if he thought about him, if he… hated him.
Of course, he was not obsessed with Antonio, even if it may seem that way.
Those thoughts were significantly enhanced during their high school prom — one of the roughest events of Arthur’s youth.
The dazzling lights and welcoming dance floor were all a teenager’s dream. Unfortunately for Arthur, the music took the main spotlight, replacing its role of being in the background with him instead. He sat in one of the elegant seats that were huddled up in the corner and waited patiently for the celebration to end. He honestly could have refused the invite, but chose to use it as an opportunity to fix what he had with Antonio before it was too late.
He had apologised to him with a single, whole-hearted “I’m sorry”. But with the booming speakers and the cheers of the other students, it was uncertain if the message ever went through.
It was not only that scene that gave the Brit an ache in the head, it was also how despicable Antonio looked during that night.
His hair was as messy as present times, standing out against the clean folds of his black tuxedo; one hand inside the small patch of his trouser, followed by his soft fingertips of the other hand pressed onto the clear surface of a wine glass, filled with coke, as Arthur presumes.
He can not keep staring forever — he wished he had not stared forever. Arthur’s vision had stayed, locked in that final position that had him mesmerised. The moment he saw him, he was afraid to look away.
Antonio was beautiful, taking a sip of his drink while laughing along with the rest of his buddies on one of the tables at the side. The movement of his lips irritated Arthur at a distance, thinking how could a man so stunning, so… infuriating fight with a lonely guy like him, let alone ignore him at best. Antonio’s eyelashes flickered every now and then, supporting his eyelids as they continued to blink a few seconds apart. Arthur’s finger twitched at the thought, his face turning a shade of red simultaneously as he swore he saw Antonio glance at him. He felt his stomach swirl at that exact moment, taking in thick air with his mouth as he struggled to breathe. Fuck.
He did not want him to get the hint. By the time it fully bloomed, the program had already finished, and he was already gone.
For three whole years did Arthur cover that secret, confidently believing that they would not meet again. He never intended to. Because if they did, it would just hurt even more.
Earth to Arthur, it took him a while to realise that the subject had finished almost fifteen minutes ago, leaving him in an empty lecture hall.
He walks out of the door to his last lesson of the day, drained at the thought of his own, personal problems. Not at the thought of whatever he had learned. Surprisingly, there were no signs of the Spaniard anywhere other than the early morning.
Huh, maybe he really did leave Arthur alone.
After an eventful schedule, all he needed to do was relax and enjoy a cup of tea. He stepped foot onto the entrance of the campus with the idea of heading straight home and boiling the kettle in mind.
As he was walking towards the direction of his apartment, the scent of coffee surrounded the nearby breeze, until it became too strong to ignore. Arthur caught a few whiffs before turning his attention to the cafe that was just a crossroad away. It was a small one with a few customers sitting at the outdoor tables of the shop; parasols covered each of them, protecting those underneath the sun’s rays.
Arthur had never preferred coffee, said it was too bitter for his liking. Nevertheless, he enjoyed the soothing atmosphere around cafes and other restaurants, admiring the architecture and the rest of its physical environment. On top was a sign that read “Leche Bean”. A weird name, but still sounded good enough in some eyes.
His view was interrupted by a figure heading out of the cafe’s front door.
There he was, Antonio, with a tray of drinks that brought joy to the people that received them. He wore his signature smile once again, carefully placing down the cups of coffee to those on the patio. This time, he wore a maroon shirt with pushed-up sleeves, exposing his arms at the sight of Arthur’s gaze from the other side of the street. A long, yellow apron laid on top of it, pressing against his chest as he straightened his back, delighted to hear the customers’ responses about the coffee served.
The Brit stared long enough for the brunette to notice him, waving his hand up in the air and gesturing them for him to come inside. Arthur stood frozen on the opposite end, before walking onwards and ignoring him for the second time.
He still could not comprehend how the Spaniard acted like that in such situations, especially when it comes to the menacing look Arthur gives out every now and then.
Why?
That same expression kept bringing him back to the stupid party. Yes, Arthur was mad about not properly communicating with Antonio before he left; he was angry at the way he ignored him during the entire prom night instead of talking to him one on one, and he was raging at the fact that he was not able to say his feelings right then and there.
And he was stupid for not doing it before he disappeared.
…
Arthur’s legs had ditched his brain, scurrying back to the direction of the cafe and across the road with slang taking over his voice, grunting and muttering all swears known to mankind.
He entered the coffee shop, the aroma of caffeine hitting his sense of smell once more. Antonio stood by the counter with eyes wide open at the sight of the blond, who was as still as a tower in front of the entrance.
“¡Que guay! You came back!” He exclaimed, dashing towards an empty table for two. “Have a seat. I’m on break for half an hour.”
“I’m only here because I felt bad.” Arthur reasoned, crossing his arms while glancing at the offered spot. “Two?”
“I wanna talk. It’s been a while.”
Arthur took little steps toward a chair, until he finally sat down. With separated lips, he asked, “You work here?”
“Part-time. Do you want anything?”
Arthur nodded, allowing Antonio to lift up the menu he held, placing it down on the top of the table. He watched the tip of his calloused fingers point at certain drinks and cakes; however, his eyes wandered to the shape of his wrist, tracing along the start of his arm and onto his shoulder, noticing each strand of hair brushing against the surface of his skin. All hearing was lost as each mention of an item would shift the Spaniard’s position to the point where their hands were inches away from touching. Antonio being present was already difficult enough for him to bear, let alone how close he was in that scenario.
It was strange for him to observe now instead of prior. I guess self-reflection really does do the trick.
“Arthur?” Antonio called, confused about his unusual behaviour. “You're bright red right now.”
“I am?” Arthur snapped back into reality, avoiding Antonio's concerned look while skimming the laid out menu. “That’s probably my allergies. It's a bit chilly nowadays, if you ask me.”
“It's winter I guess. Have you figured out your order?”
“Uhm well, just get me an espresso will you?”
“But I thought you hated coffee?”
“This is a bloody cafe. It serves its purpose.”
“...If you say so.”
Antonio heads back to the counter to place Arthur's order, leaving him to look like a fool.
A few minutes had passed as Antonio came back with his request: a fresh cup of espresso served, much to his dismay. The blond thanked him and cracked open an awkward smile; his face wrinkled as he hesitated, grabbing the cardboard sleeve that was embracing itself on the paper around it. Antonio witnessed him in discomfort, silently taking the tiniest sip with the remaining attempt to keep his calm composure.
“You don't like it, do you?” Antonio remarked, slanting his eyebrows and giving a heavy sigh. His grip relied on one hand on the table while the other was placed on his hip.
“It's lovely,” Arthur responded. His mouth betrayed him, telling a different story.
“You're gritting your teeth.”
“Am I?”
“Nevermind.”
The Spaniard glanced back at the counter then back at Arthur; he continued to take multiple sips of the espresso despite cringing at the bitterness that lingered on the edge of his tongue, growing increasingly apparent every time he swallowed.
Just then, another drink landed on the table.
“Here,” Antonio spoke, pushing it towards the blond as he sat down on the other end. “Something you like.”
Arthur was in disbelief.
“You didn't.”
“I originally wasn't because of how dumb you looked when I saw you sipping on that espresso, but it got boring really quick. “
Arthur giggled, “So you're calling me boring then?”
“Very.”
A faint blush formed on the Brit’s cheeks as he began to consume the tea given to him.
“That's gonna cost extra,” Antonio smirked.
“Fuck you.”
“De nada.”
His stomach started to swirl like it did all those years ago. The casual talk they had now were precious tapes stored in the chambers of Arthur's mind, waiting to be played as his favourite memories.
This time it wasn't his appearance that Arthur could think about. The tenderness in his voice, his lisp, and oh, how the accent was still prominent in every mass of his speech. His ears listened to the tune of Antonio's words, noticing his fluency in phrases that he was not able to pronounce properly back in the day. Has he continued practicing? Was he coached? Arthur wanted to know. But he had to blurt out something before embarrassing himself the second time this afternoon.
“So, how are things?” He asked, changing the subject.
“Pretty good. I gave up on being over the top a long time ago, I major in Horticulture now.”
“That's nice.”
“Just doing what I'm passionate about. How's Alfred? Still not on good terms?”
“It… has been better, though he's as much of a brat as he was back then.”
“I see.”
“He's in another campus, the one near here.”
“Ah, I think Romano is studying there as well.”
“Really?”
“Sí, he said he wanted to be a CEO in the future. I thought that was funny.”
“Oh goodness, he reminds me of Alfred.”
“Hm? He's taking business too?”
“Film. His love for superheroes had never changed.”
And just like that, the two had submitted themselves into an endless dialogue, rambling about old friends and stories within a shortened time limit. Never had Arthur expected that an unanticipated competition between foes would become quickly short-lived in just a matter of hours. Though, he hadn't told Antonio about what he really felt since the night of the party. Maybe he didn't even care. And maybe it was better to not tell him, leaving as it is.
Seconds upon minutes went by as the both talked with lifted tension fading from existence.
“Who else is taking part-time?” Arthur questioned.
“Feli. He's providing cooking classes every Wednesdays and Thursdays,” Antonio replied, rising up from his seat.
“You're going already?”
“My boss is calling, I have to finish my shift.”
“Oh, okay then.”
“It was nice meeting you again, Arturo.” Antonio added, looking down at him one last time. “I'll be here on Saturday, if you want to talk again.”
Arthur observed as the Spaniard headed back towards his station, picking up a plastic tray and the empty cups from the table as he resumed his cycle of serving customers and taking down orders.
Oh my god.
It could be that his heart skipped a beat at their entire hangout, it could be that his face was melting from how handsome Antonio had turned out, or it could be the subtle name change that he had suddenly called out.
‘Arturo’,
was what filled his thoughts since then.
Arturo.
Arturo…
He opened his phone, landing a number on the dial.
Ring!
Ring!
“Hallo?”
“Hello, uhm, Ludwig? Yeah, I was wondering if you still have Feliciano’s contact?”