Post by Arthur on Jun 9, 2012 14:38:23 GMT -5
Title: Galeotto Fu Il Libro, E Chi Lo Scrisse
Author: KivaEmber
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Rome/Prussia, Germany, Hungary
Summary: AU: A chance encounter at a coffee shop leads to Gilbert becoming a protagonist in Rome's pornography novel – after that, well, it pretty much turns into a pornography novel. Rome/Prussia
Part I
Gilbert was well known to be an odd sort of guy by anyone who knew him. His brother, Ludwig, would say that he was horribly absent minded, forgetting to bring an umbrella or waterproof coat with him if the sky looked a bit grey, or if he was going out on a grocery shopping trip and didn't buy anything because he got distracted by street performers, or even losing the television remote when he had it in his hand moments before. His friend, Francis, would say that Gilbert had no sense of fashion whatsoever; with his neon green shoes, black and red checked scarf, faded blue jeans and a long sleeved coat open on a graphic tee of the day, Gilbert was a fashion abomination. His other friend, Antonio, would say that Gilbert was too friendly with beer and laughed at the strangest things – and cracked even stranger jokes that only he seemed to get.
His rival, Elizaveta, merely said that Gilbert was a depraved pervert.
All those things about him were true. Gilbert was absentminded, he was fashionably retarded, he did have an odd sense of humour and certainly, he was a pervert. But to him, all of those were unique qualities that made him an eccentric person. To him, being deemed insane by the general public was better than being a neurotic, anal retentive member of boredom like his brother.
How Ludwig had not died of high blood pressure related circumstances, it remained forever a mystery.
But the only downside was that being part of the eccentric population of society meant that Gilbert was usually barred from shops and cafés due to unfortunate misunderstandings. His favourite coffee shop, for example, had now banned him for life due to a little incident involving a barista, a bad morning, and a face being repeatedly smashed into a till. So he was now in search for another.
He trudged through the high street in his battered neon green shoes, idly looking from side to side as he searched for refuge in a good coffee shop that would accept him from the rain. He had no money, but he was certain that in one of the few coffee shops that had not yet heard of his awesome eccentricity they would let him loiter by the gurgling appliances that heated up water to dry off. Or lend him an umbrella.
Eventually, he found a small café at the end of the street. It had the friendly cosiness that all coffee shops aspired to have but somehow fell flat in their attempt. Gilbert grinned, pleased, and stepped into the small café, dripping water on the floor and looking about at the soft muted colours of the interior. Gilbert immediately gained a liking to the place.
He marched up to the small counter – everything in the place was small in some way, which added to the cosy atmosphere, the only exception were the large squashy leather armchairs crowding around their respective tables – and grinned down at a pretty brunette girl.
"I have no money, but you'll give me a coffee, ja." Gilbert phrased it as a roundabout demand, grinning wider as the pretty girl began to frown. She was obviously irritated and it amused Gilbert so he let out a small snicker before saying, "At least, let me stay here until I dry." He waved a hand at the window where the pouring rain was still thundering down, "You wouldn't want someone as awesome as me to get hypothermia, right?"
"I'm sorry, sir, but only paying customers can stay," the girl said, and even though she looked a bit irritated, she did look slightly sympathetic – or so it seemed to Gilbert.
Gilbert plunged his wet hands into his jacket and jeans' pockets, searching for some spare coins that would be enough to buy a small tea. But alas, he turned his pockets inside out and shrugged sheepishly at the girl. He found only lint and an old bus ticket in his pockets. "I'm skint."
"Then you can't stay here…" The girl began, but she was interrupted.
"I'll buy a coffee for the young man," a voice said behind Gilbert, and the albino turned to see who was kind enough to offer such a thing. It was a man who seemed to be in his early forties, with light stubble on his tanned cheeks and chin, and curly brown hair, with the corners of his tawny eyes faintly creased into a cheerfully kind smile.
Never before had anyone done something as insignificantly kind like that before, and with a wide smirk, Gilbert exploited it ruthlessly.
"Ah, you will? Great. So you can buy me a large black coffee then." Gilbert stepped aside for the Good Samaritan to purchase his coffee, "And maybe a muffin too."
The girl looked at him disapprovingly, but the man didn't seem to mind. The corners of his eyes crinkled more, and he gave a deep bass laugh that sounded very loud in the small coffee shop. "You're very demanding."
Gilbert grinned, baring his teeth, "I deserve the best."
The man laughed again, before turning to the girl and relaying Gilbert's orders even though she had heard them already. The girl just huffed and shook her head in exasperation, but went about her task. Gilbert inhaled deeply at the scent of fresh coffee that rose up minutes later.
"You forgot your umbrella?" The man asked, distracting Gilbert from the scent of coffee. He turned to the taller man, giving him a once glance over before addressing him, supposing that while he waited he may as well engage in conversation.
"I didn't forget, exactly," Gilbert shrugged his shoulders lightly, and lifted his pale fingers to peel where his checked scarf was clinging to his neck. "I didn't think I'd need an umbrella."
"I forget my umbrella," The man said, smiling at Gilbert with that strange, friendly expression. "Constantly. My friend reminds me before I go out to take one with me though."
"My brother does that," Gilbert scoffed, eyes sliding over to the counter at seeing the girl place a muffin on a small china plate while the coffee gurgled in it glass pot. "I still don't take one. It'll weigh me down."
"So you rely on the kindness of strangers?" The man asked in amusement.
"I rely on my charm to make strangers be kind to me," Gilbert parried, looking back at the man and his slightly crinkled eyes with a smug smirk. "It worked on you, ja?"
The man laughed – it was a nice rich noise, now that Gilbert was accustomed to the sheer deepness of it – and gave a slight shake of his head in amusement. Gilbert smirked just a bit wider, and turned to the pretty girl who called for their attention.
"Oh, that's a big cup," Gilbert noted in delight at the bowl sized cup of coffee the female barista put before him. He picked up the cup and the muffin and turned to go hunt for an unoccupied armchair – for the coffee shop, though not crowded, did have a few people.
The man stopped him though, "You can sit there," He pointed over at a comfortable looking armchair in the corner of the shop, a nice cosy looking spot, but the table it was set before had an opened laptop and an unfinished flapjack and coffee. "I'd like to talk to you some more."
Gilbert smirked in amusement at the friendly demand, but rolled his still wet shoulders into a shrug and made his way over there. He sat down, putting his coffee and muffin down on the space available, and took off his damp scarf so it wasn't attempting to strangle him so.
The man sat down with that wide – almost goofy looking, really – smile, ignoring his open laptop in favour of peering silently at his wet companion. Gilbert stared right back, taking a pointed sip of his coffee (with some manhandling as it was awkward to manage the bowl sized cup and look cool at the same time).
"My name is Rome," The man said after a pause.
Gilbert spluttered into his cup, and quickly put it down before he spilt the scalding coffee directly onto his lap. "Rome? Like, the city?"
The man just smiled at Gilbert's reaction. "Like the city."
Gilbert stared then snickered quietly, "You're a bit too old to fit in with the fashionable generation named after cities," He pointed out as he picked up his coffee again.
The man – Rome – merely smiled that wide, slightly goofy but at the same time endearing, smile and lifted his broad shoulders into a shrug. "My parents were ahead of their time in the field of fashion trends."
"Ah, so you were doing it before it was cool," Gilbert's wide grin softened into a relaxed smirk, and he fell silent, sipping his coffee.
Rome just chuckled lowly, and he turned to his forgotten laptop and tapped on the keys with his thick calloused fingers. Gilbert watched them methodically press the keys with idle curiosity, a companionable silence falling over the two strangers with only the gurgling of the coffee machines, the soft hubbub of the other occupants of the coffee shop talking, and the rain acting as background noise.
It was when Gilbert was picking out the chocolate chips from his muffin and eating them that Rome spoke again. "The rain doesn't seem to be letting up any time soon. Do you need an umbrella?"
Gilbert paused, blinking at the brunet man for a moment, before giving a wide, smug grin, "Ja. I do. You got one for me?"
"I have one. You can borrow it if you wish."
"You're so kind~" Gilbert mock-gushed, and ripped off a good chunk off of his muffin and popped it into his mouth. "What's the catch?"
Rome looked faintly bemused at the question, looking away from his laptop to smile slightly at the albino. "None. It's just that you're wet enough already. Going back out in those damp clothes would most likely finish you off."
"I have a strong resistance to getting ill," Gilbert sniffed as if offended, and tilted his nose up slightly. "But I will take the – there's no stupid design or pattern on it, is there?"
Rome turned and leaned down slightly to pick up the umbrella that had been lain down next to the armchair he was in. It was plain black. "No. No pattern or design."
"Then I'll take it," Gilbert said, holding out his hand and taking the black umbrella. He draped it over his lap atop of the checked scarf and smiled in a manner similar to that of a contented cat. "You probably won't get it back."
Rome shrugged lightly and turned back to his laptop with a small, pleased smile, "I frequent this place often," Was all he said as an answer.
Gilbert snorted and returned to picking his muffin into bite sized pieces. Nothing else was said between the two until Gilbert stood up to leave, smirking in a self-satisfied way and drawling a smug farewell.
"It was nice meeting you," Rome replied, smiling as Gilbert gave another mocking snort and exited the coffee shop into the rain with his borrowed umbrella.
It was clear, but slightly cold, day a week later. Gilbert whistled to himself as he strolled down the high street, hands buried into his pockets and a black umbrella hanging from his wrist by a thin but strong black cord. It bumped against his thigh rhythmically with each step.
He was going to meet that odd old man, Rome, to maybe return the umbrella. Why? Well, the main reason could be boredom. There had been nothing to do lately, especially as he had been banned from nearly every shop in town for being his unique, eccentric self, and that Ludwig was trying to goad him into getting a job by cutting him off financially. There were maybe other small reasons as well, but Gilbert did not bother thinking about those, and focused more on alleviating his boredom.
He retraced his steps from seven days ago, and almost missed the small coffee shop. He lit up when he saw it, and immediately entered into it, looking about with a wide smirk. His smirk faltered, however, when he did not see the tall, dark haired man sitting in any of the armchairs.
Lips tugging down into a slight frown, he spotted the same pretty girl at the counter from last time, and with swift steps he walked up to her.
"Hey, you seen that Rome guy today?" He asked before the female barista could ask what he wanted this time. People never liked him after first meeting for some reason, bar a rare few. He supposed that they didn't appreciate his eccentricity enough.
"Rome?" The girl – Gilbert looked at the nametag, "Giselle" – repeated. "Yeah, he was in earlier. You just missed him by an hour – why, did you want to mooch from him again?"
Gilbert's frown deepened, and he slipped the umbrella from his wrist and put it down on the counter. "You seem to know him. So you can give this back." And feeling incredibly put out, he turned away and stepped out of the coffee shop.
And right into the very person he had been looking for.
"Oh!" Rome's deep bass voice exclaimed in surprise, and before Gilbert could stumble to the floor in the most embarrassing way possible, the man's large hand gripped his arm tightly and steadied him. "What a surprise! I didn't hurt you did I?"
Gilbert shrugged his arm away and brushed himself off with a small frown, "Nein. I was just looking for you."
"Oh?" Rome smiled, looking pleased. "You were?"
"To give back your umbrella. I gave it to that broad, uh, Gretchen-"
"Giselle?"
"Ja, her. Well, yeah. So your umbrella," And for once, Gilbert's silver tongue failed him. He stood there awkwardly under Rome's wide goofy smile, unsure of what to say exactly, then shrugged and walked past him without another word.
"Thank you for returning it…" Rome called, the brunet pausing when he realised he did not actually know the name of this strange young man with neon green shoes and a checked scarf.
"Gilbert. And whatever. No problem." And without looking back Gilbert hurried down the high street until he stopped, realising that he had been heading in the wrong direction to home in his haste to get away.
Gilbert grumbled as he pushed the trolley through the aisle of the supermarket. He had to pick the trolley with the wonky wheel, didn't he? Growling he shoved the trolley so its wheel spun jerkily and he nearly pushed the death trap into a shelf of cheap DVDs.
Ludwig had landed him with grocery shopping, and all but stapled a shopping list to his sleeve so he wouldn't forget a thing. Gilbert was only obeying his younger brother's wishes because he had been bribed with money to carry out this quest. A month after placing the financial restriction on him, Ludwig finally took pity on him and offered to pay him for doing chores. It was all well and good, but he made the decision to demand extra for the torture this trolley was putting him through.
"And…" Gilbert muttered as he looked at the crumpled list in his hand, "Now, he wants laminating paper. A4…" He scowled and looked about, unfamiliar with the layout of the supermarket, and wandered about aimlessly. He didn't ask for help from the staff, he never did.
He found the laminating paper when he stumbled into the correct aisle, between the photograph printing paper and inkjet cartridges. Gilbert scowled when the only pack there was a compilation of A4, A3, and A5 sized laminating paper that cost an arm at most.
"Have to be awkward, don't you?" Gilbert picked up the pack anyway, and pushed the trolley out of the aisle into the next, consulting the list. "Vegetables…carrots and potatoes…ugh, cabbage? Ew…"
Looking up from the list in disgust at seeing cabbages on the list – he had a dislike for them after a somewhat traumatising event with a Russian called Ivan; he couldn't look cabbages, beetroot or vodka the same ever again – he found he was in the small 'library' part of the supermarket. On the left were the 'bestselling' books, and on the right were all the pulp fictions and pornography cleverly disguised as romance novels.
Gilbert went for the right.
He wasn't a reader normally, but with the banning from shops, lack of funds, and a television restriction (Ludwig had become a tyrant of the household), books were the last resort to entertainment. And if he had to read, it may as well be pornography.
He browsed through the bodice bursting romances, the overly cheesy romances, and the romances that didn't bother disguising the fact that it was just porn porn porn, and eventually came across one named "The Silver Fox". He read the blurb, and raised a brow at the fact that it openly admitted it was homosexual pornography.
Even more interesting was that the main character's name was Gilbert.
And even more interesting – when he turned the book over to see who the author was – was the fact that the person who wrote the book was called Rome Vargas, and that a quick flip through revealed that not only was this book barely a week old, the setting of the first chapter was very familiar.
Set in a coffee shop, in fact.
"Son of a bitch."
There was a perk in being friends with Elizaveta. Mainly being that whenever Gilbert made a house call, he always felt like a young lord with how the butler would usher him to a small but grand drawing room and offer him drinks while he waited. Of course, the butler always looked in disdain at his scruffy, obviously lower-middle class clothes, but Gilbert blissfully ignored that.
This time, however, he was a bit too irritated to smirk smugly as he normally did when entering Elizaveta's home (well, technically her husband, Roderich, owned the house, but Elizaveta ran the household so it was her house). He sat impatiently in the expensive looking sofa of the drawing room and pulled at a fraying thread from his scarf until his childhood friend-cum-rival entered with a faint frown.
"You're not here for money, are you?" She demanded as soon as she sat down across from Gilbert, her brows furrowed into a disapproving expression.
Wordlessly, Gilbert reached into his jacket and threw a small, obviously thumbed through book on the coffee table separating them as an answer.
Elizaveta blinked, then frowned even deeper as she leaned forwards to pick up the book. "What," she began as she turned the book over in her hands. The front cover was slightly creased with the title "The Silver Fox" on the front, and a picture of a pair of green shoes similar to those of Gilbert's. She looked at the author, Rome Vargas.
"Oh!" She exclaimed, brightening up, "He has a new book already?"
Gilbert's face twitched. "You know him?"
"Of course. He's a very talented writer," Elizaveta's cheeks pinked, and Gilbert wrinkled his nose at the slight faraway expression on her face. Yes, talented indeed, Gilbert thought, jiggling his knee in agitation. Very talented at writing gay porn scenes where the protagonist – Gilbert – gets fucked three ways to Sunday by a man who was described similar to Rome's own visage.
"You read his work?" Elizaveta asked once she returned to reality, giving her friend a curious look like she never seen him before. Immediately Gilbert caught the insinuation, and with an indignant flush – that went right to the tip of his ears – he snapped a "No!" and pointed at the book in her hands.
"Read the beginning," He ordered.
Elizaveta looked affronted, but did not dish out a violent and painful punishment. She opened the book and scanned through the first chapter. She then looked up at Gilbert with a small smile. "It's only a coincidence," She laughed, obviously thinking that Gilbert was annoyed at the shared name and odd likeliness between him and the character.
"No, it's not. You see, that? The beginning? Happened to me," Gilbert's expression darkened, "I met Rome exactly like that."
"You met Rome?" Elizaveta got a disturbingly fanatical gleam in her eyes, and Gilbert unconsciously leaned back in his seat. "What was he like?"
"Like the character Julius."
Elizaveta paused, and looked down at the book. Then everything clicked, and she looked up at Gilbert's disgruntled expression with a look that clearly said she was holding back laughter. "I suppose he took a liking to you."
"I don't think it was just a liking."
Elizaveta gave a very unwomanly snort of laughter, and flipped through the book until she came across the first sex scene in the book. She let out another snort, and Gilbert began to flush in indignation again. "It's not funny!"
"Oh, but it is," Elizaveta giggled, then cleared her throat and assumed a breathless, submissive voice, "O-Oh, oh, it's…it's so big…!"
"Elizaveta!" Gilbert barked, scandalised as she read out the dialogue and leaned over to try and snatch the book from her hands. Elizaveta merely tugged it out of his reach and continued reading, her voice trembling from the effort of not bursting into laughter.
"-moaning in pleasure, his nails digging into Julius's back, "Nngh~ yes, please, more!" Gilbert gasped, bucking-"
"Stop reading it you perverted bitch!"
"Julius!" Gilbert cried-"
"Gah!" Gilbert managed to snatch the book back and shoved it deep into his jacket with a scowl of embarrassment. "Bitch."
Elizaveta was far too amused at how red her friend had gotten to smack him for the insult. "You're reading too much into it," She laughed after they settled back down into their seats. "He probably already had the story written before meeting you…you just offered the…last bits of motivation."
"Like my name and appearance?" Gilbert grumbled, "Because I sure as hell don't act like…" He reddened again and scowled, "That."
Elizaveta smiled teasingly, "If you say so…"
"Oh, shut up," Gilbert snapped, seeing the smile, "This is creepy."
"It's just a coincidence and funny," Elizaveta laughed, "Stop being so arrogant in thinking that he saw you and suddenly had to write a book about his sexual fantasy he had immediately after meeting you. He just used you as inspiration."
"As if that makes me feel any better," Gilbert muttered, although his pride was slightly stoked at being used for inspiration – then he remembered that it was for porn where his character was a submissive gay man, and his pride soured.
"If it annoys you so much then find him and tell him," Elizaveta smirked, "I mean…you probably have his phone number or something, right?"
"Nein, I didn't think-" But Gilbert paused, and remembered that little coffee shop he hadn't been to since last month and stood from the sofa. He was still burning with vexation, and right now, the suggestion of finding Rome and showing him exactly on how he felt in being inspiration in person was very tempting.
"Before you go!" Elizaveta said, standing up with Gilbert, "Can I have that book?"
Gilbert glared, but obligingly threw the book at Elizaveta who quickly caught it before it hit her in the face. "Don't mention it to me ever again," Gilbert snapped as he stormed out of the drawing room, startling a passing maid from her cleaning.
Elizaveta chuckled, shaking her head and sitting back down, cracking open the book. Roderich was currently having one of his musical practises, so she had plenty of time to see exactly how Rome wrote Gilbert.
"Gilbert was a man who was always the opposite of 'normal'. If normal was to be polite, he would be rude; if normal was to blend in, he would wear bright green shoes and mismatched socks…"
Gilbert stormed into the coffee shop like a human hurricane. He flung open the door, stomped in, and stood at the doorway for a moment, ignoring the wide-eyed stares of the patrons of café as he stood there with flaring nostrils and narrowed eyes. He spotted his target – sitting in the same armchair as before – and made a beeline to him, his anger flaring up at how tawny eyes crinkled slightly in oblivious amusement when they landed on him.
"Bad day?" Rome asked, smiling that stupid smile (how he thought it attractive and endearing before he didn't know) of his.
Gilbert seethed silently for a few seconds, then snapped, "You wrote a book about me."
Rome blinked. "Ah?"
"You heard me! The Silver Fox or something!" Gilbert hissed, barely keeping his voice at indoor volume. People were already attempting to eavesdrop in their conversation.
Enlightenment came to Rome then, and he "ahh"d softly, nodding and smiling again at the obviously furious German, "Did you like it?"
"Like it?" Gilbert's voice pitched slightly, "You made me into-" And realising the fact that he was making a scene – and for once did not want a scene – he sat down across of Rome and leaned forwards, lowering his voice, "You made me into a submissive little bitch in it!"
Rome frowned slightly, "Did I? I'm sure I didn't…"
"You did!" Gilbert insisted, and flushed as he remembered the sex scene. Now, he can get behind a good sex scene, no matter if it was straight or homosexual, and the sex scene in "The Silver Fox" was very well written, but the fact that it was him embarrassed him to near swooning. He finally knew how Ludwig felt whenever anyone mentioned the word "sex" around him.
Rome just smiled at him after a moment, "Did you actually read it? I don't think Gilbert was submissive at all. He was quite the spitfire in my opinion."
"Not in the sex scene!"
"Did you think he was submissive because he bottomed?" Rome asked, sounding genuinely surprised at this, "That isn't-"
"Anyway," Gilbert interrupted, "I want to know why you…why you put me down in that!"
Rome still had that wide, simple smile on his face, "I already wrote the character, but I still had trouble over the name and his appearance Then you came along…you fitted him perfectly." He shrugged, "I'm sorry if you thought it was personal."
"Sounds a bit too coincidental to me," Gilbert snapped abruptly, his German accent, which had been thickening as the conversation dragged on, was now almost making him incomprehensible in his agitation.
"But that's all it was," Rome said, smiling a bit wider, "A very strange coincidence."
"And pigs fly," Gilbert practically snarled, banging the heels of his palms on the table separating them, and making the cup of coffee on it bounce slightly.
Rome was silent for a moment, staring at Gilbert's scowl and narrowed crimson eyes. Then his wide smile softened into a very small, but somehow different, smile and said, "Your accent is very cute."
Something in Gilbert snapped.
He punched Rome right in his stupidly smiling face.
End of Part I
Author: KivaEmber
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Rome/Prussia, Germany, Hungary
Summary: AU: A chance encounter at a coffee shop leads to Gilbert becoming a protagonist in Rome's pornography novel – after that, well, it pretty much turns into a pornography novel. Rome/Prussia
Part I
Gilbert was well known to be an odd sort of guy by anyone who knew him. His brother, Ludwig, would say that he was horribly absent minded, forgetting to bring an umbrella or waterproof coat with him if the sky looked a bit grey, or if he was going out on a grocery shopping trip and didn't buy anything because he got distracted by street performers, or even losing the television remote when he had it in his hand moments before. His friend, Francis, would say that Gilbert had no sense of fashion whatsoever; with his neon green shoes, black and red checked scarf, faded blue jeans and a long sleeved coat open on a graphic tee of the day, Gilbert was a fashion abomination. His other friend, Antonio, would say that Gilbert was too friendly with beer and laughed at the strangest things – and cracked even stranger jokes that only he seemed to get.
His rival, Elizaveta, merely said that Gilbert was a depraved pervert.
All those things about him were true. Gilbert was absentminded, he was fashionably retarded, he did have an odd sense of humour and certainly, he was a pervert. But to him, all of those were unique qualities that made him an eccentric person. To him, being deemed insane by the general public was better than being a neurotic, anal retentive member of boredom like his brother.
How Ludwig had not died of high blood pressure related circumstances, it remained forever a mystery.
But the only downside was that being part of the eccentric population of society meant that Gilbert was usually barred from shops and cafés due to unfortunate misunderstandings. His favourite coffee shop, for example, had now banned him for life due to a little incident involving a barista, a bad morning, and a face being repeatedly smashed into a till. So he was now in search for another.
He trudged through the high street in his battered neon green shoes, idly looking from side to side as he searched for refuge in a good coffee shop that would accept him from the rain. He had no money, but he was certain that in one of the few coffee shops that had not yet heard of his awesome eccentricity they would let him loiter by the gurgling appliances that heated up water to dry off. Or lend him an umbrella.
Eventually, he found a small café at the end of the street. It had the friendly cosiness that all coffee shops aspired to have but somehow fell flat in their attempt. Gilbert grinned, pleased, and stepped into the small café, dripping water on the floor and looking about at the soft muted colours of the interior. Gilbert immediately gained a liking to the place.
He marched up to the small counter – everything in the place was small in some way, which added to the cosy atmosphere, the only exception were the large squashy leather armchairs crowding around their respective tables – and grinned down at a pretty brunette girl.
"I have no money, but you'll give me a coffee, ja." Gilbert phrased it as a roundabout demand, grinning wider as the pretty girl began to frown. She was obviously irritated and it amused Gilbert so he let out a small snicker before saying, "At least, let me stay here until I dry." He waved a hand at the window where the pouring rain was still thundering down, "You wouldn't want someone as awesome as me to get hypothermia, right?"
"I'm sorry, sir, but only paying customers can stay," the girl said, and even though she looked a bit irritated, she did look slightly sympathetic – or so it seemed to Gilbert.
Gilbert plunged his wet hands into his jacket and jeans' pockets, searching for some spare coins that would be enough to buy a small tea. But alas, he turned his pockets inside out and shrugged sheepishly at the girl. He found only lint and an old bus ticket in his pockets. "I'm skint."
"Then you can't stay here…" The girl began, but she was interrupted.
"I'll buy a coffee for the young man," a voice said behind Gilbert, and the albino turned to see who was kind enough to offer such a thing. It was a man who seemed to be in his early forties, with light stubble on his tanned cheeks and chin, and curly brown hair, with the corners of his tawny eyes faintly creased into a cheerfully kind smile.
Never before had anyone done something as insignificantly kind like that before, and with a wide smirk, Gilbert exploited it ruthlessly.
"Ah, you will? Great. So you can buy me a large black coffee then." Gilbert stepped aside for the Good Samaritan to purchase his coffee, "And maybe a muffin too."
The girl looked at him disapprovingly, but the man didn't seem to mind. The corners of his eyes crinkled more, and he gave a deep bass laugh that sounded very loud in the small coffee shop. "You're very demanding."
Gilbert grinned, baring his teeth, "I deserve the best."
The man laughed again, before turning to the girl and relaying Gilbert's orders even though she had heard them already. The girl just huffed and shook her head in exasperation, but went about her task. Gilbert inhaled deeply at the scent of fresh coffee that rose up minutes later.
"You forgot your umbrella?" The man asked, distracting Gilbert from the scent of coffee. He turned to the taller man, giving him a once glance over before addressing him, supposing that while he waited he may as well engage in conversation.
"I didn't forget, exactly," Gilbert shrugged his shoulders lightly, and lifted his pale fingers to peel where his checked scarf was clinging to his neck. "I didn't think I'd need an umbrella."
"I forget my umbrella," The man said, smiling at Gilbert with that strange, friendly expression. "Constantly. My friend reminds me before I go out to take one with me though."
"My brother does that," Gilbert scoffed, eyes sliding over to the counter at seeing the girl place a muffin on a small china plate while the coffee gurgled in it glass pot. "I still don't take one. It'll weigh me down."
"So you rely on the kindness of strangers?" The man asked in amusement.
"I rely on my charm to make strangers be kind to me," Gilbert parried, looking back at the man and his slightly crinkled eyes with a smug smirk. "It worked on you, ja?"
The man laughed – it was a nice rich noise, now that Gilbert was accustomed to the sheer deepness of it – and gave a slight shake of his head in amusement. Gilbert smirked just a bit wider, and turned to the pretty girl who called for their attention.
"Oh, that's a big cup," Gilbert noted in delight at the bowl sized cup of coffee the female barista put before him. He picked up the cup and the muffin and turned to go hunt for an unoccupied armchair – for the coffee shop, though not crowded, did have a few people.
The man stopped him though, "You can sit there," He pointed over at a comfortable looking armchair in the corner of the shop, a nice cosy looking spot, but the table it was set before had an opened laptop and an unfinished flapjack and coffee. "I'd like to talk to you some more."
Gilbert smirked in amusement at the friendly demand, but rolled his still wet shoulders into a shrug and made his way over there. He sat down, putting his coffee and muffin down on the space available, and took off his damp scarf so it wasn't attempting to strangle him so.
The man sat down with that wide – almost goofy looking, really – smile, ignoring his open laptop in favour of peering silently at his wet companion. Gilbert stared right back, taking a pointed sip of his coffee (with some manhandling as it was awkward to manage the bowl sized cup and look cool at the same time).
"My name is Rome," The man said after a pause.
Gilbert spluttered into his cup, and quickly put it down before he spilt the scalding coffee directly onto his lap. "Rome? Like, the city?"
The man just smiled at Gilbert's reaction. "Like the city."
Gilbert stared then snickered quietly, "You're a bit too old to fit in with the fashionable generation named after cities," He pointed out as he picked up his coffee again.
The man – Rome – merely smiled that wide, slightly goofy but at the same time endearing, smile and lifted his broad shoulders into a shrug. "My parents were ahead of their time in the field of fashion trends."
"Ah, so you were doing it before it was cool," Gilbert's wide grin softened into a relaxed smirk, and he fell silent, sipping his coffee.
Rome just chuckled lowly, and he turned to his forgotten laptop and tapped on the keys with his thick calloused fingers. Gilbert watched them methodically press the keys with idle curiosity, a companionable silence falling over the two strangers with only the gurgling of the coffee machines, the soft hubbub of the other occupants of the coffee shop talking, and the rain acting as background noise.
It was when Gilbert was picking out the chocolate chips from his muffin and eating them that Rome spoke again. "The rain doesn't seem to be letting up any time soon. Do you need an umbrella?"
Gilbert paused, blinking at the brunet man for a moment, before giving a wide, smug grin, "Ja. I do. You got one for me?"
"I have one. You can borrow it if you wish."
"You're so kind~" Gilbert mock-gushed, and ripped off a good chunk off of his muffin and popped it into his mouth. "What's the catch?"
Rome looked faintly bemused at the question, looking away from his laptop to smile slightly at the albino. "None. It's just that you're wet enough already. Going back out in those damp clothes would most likely finish you off."
"I have a strong resistance to getting ill," Gilbert sniffed as if offended, and tilted his nose up slightly. "But I will take the – there's no stupid design or pattern on it, is there?"
Rome turned and leaned down slightly to pick up the umbrella that had been lain down next to the armchair he was in. It was plain black. "No. No pattern or design."
"Then I'll take it," Gilbert said, holding out his hand and taking the black umbrella. He draped it over his lap atop of the checked scarf and smiled in a manner similar to that of a contented cat. "You probably won't get it back."
Rome shrugged lightly and turned back to his laptop with a small, pleased smile, "I frequent this place often," Was all he said as an answer.
Gilbert snorted and returned to picking his muffin into bite sized pieces. Nothing else was said between the two until Gilbert stood up to leave, smirking in a self-satisfied way and drawling a smug farewell.
"It was nice meeting you," Rome replied, smiling as Gilbert gave another mocking snort and exited the coffee shop into the rain with his borrowed umbrella.
It was clear, but slightly cold, day a week later. Gilbert whistled to himself as he strolled down the high street, hands buried into his pockets and a black umbrella hanging from his wrist by a thin but strong black cord. It bumped against his thigh rhythmically with each step.
He was going to meet that odd old man, Rome, to maybe return the umbrella. Why? Well, the main reason could be boredom. There had been nothing to do lately, especially as he had been banned from nearly every shop in town for being his unique, eccentric self, and that Ludwig was trying to goad him into getting a job by cutting him off financially. There were maybe other small reasons as well, but Gilbert did not bother thinking about those, and focused more on alleviating his boredom.
He retraced his steps from seven days ago, and almost missed the small coffee shop. He lit up when he saw it, and immediately entered into it, looking about with a wide smirk. His smirk faltered, however, when he did not see the tall, dark haired man sitting in any of the armchairs.
Lips tugging down into a slight frown, he spotted the same pretty girl at the counter from last time, and with swift steps he walked up to her.
"Hey, you seen that Rome guy today?" He asked before the female barista could ask what he wanted this time. People never liked him after first meeting for some reason, bar a rare few. He supposed that they didn't appreciate his eccentricity enough.
"Rome?" The girl – Gilbert looked at the nametag, "Giselle" – repeated. "Yeah, he was in earlier. You just missed him by an hour – why, did you want to mooch from him again?"
Gilbert's frown deepened, and he slipped the umbrella from his wrist and put it down on the counter. "You seem to know him. So you can give this back." And feeling incredibly put out, he turned away and stepped out of the coffee shop.
And right into the very person he had been looking for.
"Oh!" Rome's deep bass voice exclaimed in surprise, and before Gilbert could stumble to the floor in the most embarrassing way possible, the man's large hand gripped his arm tightly and steadied him. "What a surprise! I didn't hurt you did I?"
Gilbert shrugged his arm away and brushed himself off with a small frown, "Nein. I was just looking for you."
"Oh?" Rome smiled, looking pleased. "You were?"
"To give back your umbrella. I gave it to that broad, uh, Gretchen-"
"Giselle?"
"Ja, her. Well, yeah. So your umbrella," And for once, Gilbert's silver tongue failed him. He stood there awkwardly under Rome's wide goofy smile, unsure of what to say exactly, then shrugged and walked past him without another word.
"Thank you for returning it…" Rome called, the brunet pausing when he realised he did not actually know the name of this strange young man with neon green shoes and a checked scarf.
"Gilbert. And whatever. No problem." And without looking back Gilbert hurried down the high street until he stopped, realising that he had been heading in the wrong direction to home in his haste to get away.
Gilbert grumbled as he pushed the trolley through the aisle of the supermarket. He had to pick the trolley with the wonky wheel, didn't he? Growling he shoved the trolley so its wheel spun jerkily and he nearly pushed the death trap into a shelf of cheap DVDs.
Ludwig had landed him with grocery shopping, and all but stapled a shopping list to his sleeve so he wouldn't forget a thing. Gilbert was only obeying his younger brother's wishes because he had been bribed with money to carry out this quest. A month after placing the financial restriction on him, Ludwig finally took pity on him and offered to pay him for doing chores. It was all well and good, but he made the decision to demand extra for the torture this trolley was putting him through.
"And…" Gilbert muttered as he looked at the crumpled list in his hand, "Now, he wants laminating paper. A4…" He scowled and looked about, unfamiliar with the layout of the supermarket, and wandered about aimlessly. He didn't ask for help from the staff, he never did.
He found the laminating paper when he stumbled into the correct aisle, between the photograph printing paper and inkjet cartridges. Gilbert scowled when the only pack there was a compilation of A4, A3, and A5 sized laminating paper that cost an arm at most.
"Have to be awkward, don't you?" Gilbert picked up the pack anyway, and pushed the trolley out of the aisle into the next, consulting the list. "Vegetables…carrots and potatoes…ugh, cabbage? Ew…"
Looking up from the list in disgust at seeing cabbages on the list – he had a dislike for them after a somewhat traumatising event with a Russian called Ivan; he couldn't look cabbages, beetroot or vodka the same ever again – he found he was in the small 'library' part of the supermarket. On the left were the 'bestselling' books, and on the right were all the pulp fictions and pornography cleverly disguised as romance novels.
Gilbert went for the right.
He wasn't a reader normally, but with the banning from shops, lack of funds, and a television restriction (Ludwig had become a tyrant of the household), books were the last resort to entertainment. And if he had to read, it may as well be pornography.
He browsed through the bodice bursting romances, the overly cheesy romances, and the romances that didn't bother disguising the fact that it was just porn porn porn, and eventually came across one named "The Silver Fox". He read the blurb, and raised a brow at the fact that it openly admitted it was homosexual pornography.
Even more interesting was that the main character's name was Gilbert.
And even more interesting – when he turned the book over to see who the author was – was the fact that the person who wrote the book was called Rome Vargas, and that a quick flip through revealed that not only was this book barely a week old, the setting of the first chapter was very familiar.
Set in a coffee shop, in fact.
"Son of a bitch."
There was a perk in being friends with Elizaveta. Mainly being that whenever Gilbert made a house call, he always felt like a young lord with how the butler would usher him to a small but grand drawing room and offer him drinks while he waited. Of course, the butler always looked in disdain at his scruffy, obviously lower-middle class clothes, but Gilbert blissfully ignored that.
This time, however, he was a bit too irritated to smirk smugly as he normally did when entering Elizaveta's home (well, technically her husband, Roderich, owned the house, but Elizaveta ran the household so it was her house). He sat impatiently in the expensive looking sofa of the drawing room and pulled at a fraying thread from his scarf until his childhood friend-cum-rival entered with a faint frown.
"You're not here for money, are you?" She demanded as soon as she sat down across from Gilbert, her brows furrowed into a disapproving expression.
Wordlessly, Gilbert reached into his jacket and threw a small, obviously thumbed through book on the coffee table separating them as an answer.
Elizaveta blinked, then frowned even deeper as she leaned forwards to pick up the book. "What," she began as she turned the book over in her hands. The front cover was slightly creased with the title "The Silver Fox" on the front, and a picture of a pair of green shoes similar to those of Gilbert's. She looked at the author, Rome Vargas.
"Oh!" She exclaimed, brightening up, "He has a new book already?"
Gilbert's face twitched. "You know him?"
"Of course. He's a very talented writer," Elizaveta's cheeks pinked, and Gilbert wrinkled his nose at the slight faraway expression on her face. Yes, talented indeed, Gilbert thought, jiggling his knee in agitation. Very talented at writing gay porn scenes where the protagonist – Gilbert – gets fucked three ways to Sunday by a man who was described similar to Rome's own visage.
"You read his work?" Elizaveta asked once she returned to reality, giving her friend a curious look like she never seen him before. Immediately Gilbert caught the insinuation, and with an indignant flush – that went right to the tip of his ears – he snapped a "No!" and pointed at the book in her hands.
"Read the beginning," He ordered.
Elizaveta looked affronted, but did not dish out a violent and painful punishment. She opened the book and scanned through the first chapter. She then looked up at Gilbert with a small smile. "It's only a coincidence," She laughed, obviously thinking that Gilbert was annoyed at the shared name and odd likeliness between him and the character.
"No, it's not. You see, that? The beginning? Happened to me," Gilbert's expression darkened, "I met Rome exactly like that."
"You met Rome?" Elizaveta got a disturbingly fanatical gleam in her eyes, and Gilbert unconsciously leaned back in his seat. "What was he like?"
"Like the character Julius."
Elizaveta paused, and looked down at the book. Then everything clicked, and she looked up at Gilbert's disgruntled expression with a look that clearly said she was holding back laughter. "I suppose he took a liking to you."
"I don't think it was just a liking."
Elizaveta gave a very unwomanly snort of laughter, and flipped through the book until she came across the first sex scene in the book. She let out another snort, and Gilbert began to flush in indignation again. "It's not funny!"
"Oh, but it is," Elizaveta giggled, then cleared her throat and assumed a breathless, submissive voice, "O-Oh, oh, it's…it's so big…!"
"Elizaveta!" Gilbert barked, scandalised as she read out the dialogue and leaned over to try and snatch the book from her hands. Elizaveta merely tugged it out of his reach and continued reading, her voice trembling from the effort of not bursting into laughter.
"-moaning in pleasure, his nails digging into Julius's back, "Nngh~ yes, please, more!" Gilbert gasped, bucking-"
"Stop reading it you perverted bitch!"
"Julius!" Gilbert cried-"
"Gah!" Gilbert managed to snatch the book back and shoved it deep into his jacket with a scowl of embarrassment. "Bitch."
Elizaveta was far too amused at how red her friend had gotten to smack him for the insult. "You're reading too much into it," She laughed after they settled back down into their seats. "He probably already had the story written before meeting you…you just offered the…last bits of motivation."
"Like my name and appearance?" Gilbert grumbled, "Because I sure as hell don't act like…" He reddened again and scowled, "That."
Elizaveta smiled teasingly, "If you say so…"
"Oh, shut up," Gilbert snapped, seeing the smile, "This is creepy."
"It's just a coincidence and funny," Elizaveta laughed, "Stop being so arrogant in thinking that he saw you and suddenly had to write a book about his sexual fantasy he had immediately after meeting you. He just used you as inspiration."
"As if that makes me feel any better," Gilbert muttered, although his pride was slightly stoked at being used for inspiration – then he remembered that it was for porn where his character was a submissive gay man, and his pride soured.
"If it annoys you so much then find him and tell him," Elizaveta smirked, "I mean…you probably have his phone number or something, right?"
"Nein, I didn't think-" But Gilbert paused, and remembered that little coffee shop he hadn't been to since last month and stood from the sofa. He was still burning with vexation, and right now, the suggestion of finding Rome and showing him exactly on how he felt in being inspiration in person was very tempting.
"Before you go!" Elizaveta said, standing up with Gilbert, "Can I have that book?"
Gilbert glared, but obligingly threw the book at Elizaveta who quickly caught it before it hit her in the face. "Don't mention it to me ever again," Gilbert snapped as he stormed out of the drawing room, startling a passing maid from her cleaning.
Elizaveta chuckled, shaking her head and sitting back down, cracking open the book. Roderich was currently having one of his musical practises, so she had plenty of time to see exactly how Rome wrote Gilbert.
"Gilbert was a man who was always the opposite of 'normal'. If normal was to be polite, he would be rude; if normal was to blend in, he would wear bright green shoes and mismatched socks…"
Gilbert stormed into the coffee shop like a human hurricane. He flung open the door, stomped in, and stood at the doorway for a moment, ignoring the wide-eyed stares of the patrons of café as he stood there with flaring nostrils and narrowed eyes. He spotted his target – sitting in the same armchair as before – and made a beeline to him, his anger flaring up at how tawny eyes crinkled slightly in oblivious amusement when they landed on him.
"Bad day?" Rome asked, smiling that stupid smile (how he thought it attractive and endearing before he didn't know) of his.
Gilbert seethed silently for a few seconds, then snapped, "You wrote a book about me."
Rome blinked. "Ah?"
"You heard me! The Silver Fox or something!" Gilbert hissed, barely keeping his voice at indoor volume. People were already attempting to eavesdrop in their conversation.
Enlightenment came to Rome then, and he "ahh"d softly, nodding and smiling again at the obviously furious German, "Did you like it?"
"Like it?" Gilbert's voice pitched slightly, "You made me into-" And realising the fact that he was making a scene – and for once did not want a scene – he sat down across of Rome and leaned forwards, lowering his voice, "You made me into a submissive little bitch in it!"
Rome frowned slightly, "Did I? I'm sure I didn't…"
"You did!" Gilbert insisted, and flushed as he remembered the sex scene. Now, he can get behind a good sex scene, no matter if it was straight or homosexual, and the sex scene in "The Silver Fox" was very well written, but the fact that it was him embarrassed him to near swooning. He finally knew how Ludwig felt whenever anyone mentioned the word "sex" around him.
Rome just smiled at him after a moment, "Did you actually read it? I don't think Gilbert was submissive at all. He was quite the spitfire in my opinion."
"Not in the sex scene!"
"Did you think he was submissive because he bottomed?" Rome asked, sounding genuinely surprised at this, "That isn't-"
"Anyway," Gilbert interrupted, "I want to know why you…why you put me down in that!"
Rome still had that wide, simple smile on his face, "I already wrote the character, but I still had trouble over the name and his appearance Then you came along…you fitted him perfectly." He shrugged, "I'm sorry if you thought it was personal."
"Sounds a bit too coincidental to me," Gilbert snapped abruptly, his German accent, which had been thickening as the conversation dragged on, was now almost making him incomprehensible in his agitation.
"But that's all it was," Rome said, smiling a bit wider, "A very strange coincidence."
"And pigs fly," Gilbert practically snarled, banging the heels of his palms on the table separating them, and making the cup of coffee on it bounce slightly.
Rome was silent for a moment, staring at Gilbert's scowl and narrowed crimson eyes. Then his wide smile softened into a very small, but somehow different, smile and said, "Your accent is very cute."
Something in Gilbert snapped.
He punched Rome right in his stupidly smiling face.
End of Part I