#kuzeykirkland

[wandschrankheld]

The trees are in their autumn beauty

Characters: APH Australia, APH Cameroon, APH Canada, APH England, APH Kenya, APH Seychelles, APH New Zealand (ment.) Wordcount: 2.8K Summary: Arthur Kirkland lived an isolated life on the outskirts of the fringe. He spent his life building an existence from nothing to raise his children, and now he is waiting for them to come home.  Content Warning: Death mention, Alcohol mention, loss of a loved one. Human names used: Australia - Nicholas; Cameroon: Adolphe Karim; Kenya: Faith Endana; Seychelles: Victoire; New Zealand: Zea. 

Here it finally is - my @aphgenficexchange gift for @kuzeykirkland ! I’m so awfully sorry it took me so long. I hope you will enjoy this piece! I took a very liberal approach to your Autumn + Post-apoc prompts, and wrote this piece about an old dad and his gaggle of kids.

An old man sat on his porch and waited for his children to come home. He had not seen them in a while, and was eager to wrap them in his arms once more, to hear them talk of their lives, their failures and victories. A stiff wind blew through his greying hair, and its cold crept into his bones. He pulled a quilted blanket around his legs, knocked over his cane and cursed. As cold as the wind was, he did not dislike it; he hoped it would urge his children to fasten their steps and find their way back to him faster.

As he sat waiting, his rum spiked tea warmed his hands and heart. His eyes searched for figures walking the horizons and his mind wandered the bronze plains to the edges of his farm. He had never been sure how big it was, exactly, had fenced in as much as land as he had found trees to make posts from all those years ago. Not thought about it since. No one had ever dared ask about it, either. Everybody in these parts knew it was his land; Old Arthur’s cursed land, they called it, the few who had settled down near the fringe as he had. They didn’t come near it, for fear of the fog that would sweep through the mountains and leave a copper smell.

He shifted his legs and downed the last sips in his cup. The land had been good to him and his family, and the fog had always left enough for them to survive. Ever so often, they would have to replace fenceposts and shingles that had been ripped apart, and bury livestock and shovel mud from the well. But hail would not touch his corn and foxes would not take his chickens and wolves would not feast on his sheep. The old man mused to himself; truly, he had been blessed to find this heaven on the outskirts of the fringe, and blessed again for having made it his own.

The first one of his children arrived as he was stepping back outside with a new cup filled to the brim with spiked tea. He returned her excited waving with his cane and didn’t bother sitting down before she had arrived, so he could sweep her up in his arms as soon as she was at arm’s length. Victoire smelled of salt and beeswax, and her thick black curls tickled his nose and cheeks. “You’ve grown taller”, he says, and she laughs, as she always does, and replies “And you’ve shrunken, dad.” She was the one he saw most often, as she had not strayed far from home. She lived in the town a mountain over, where she had taken over the only pub to be found in miles. Victoire brewed her beer herself, with the technique his late brother had taught her, and he couldn’t be more proud. A crate of the stuff now rested on the porch, and he tapped his cane against it feigning annoyance.

Her laugh was brighter than the sun, and he couldn’t help cracking a smile himself whenever he heard it. “How are the bones?”, she asked. He shrugged, and fell victim to her silent worry.

“Would you go on to the kitchen, dear, and prepare the table? The stew and the bread should be ready by now, and I would like to stay out here to wait for your siblings. “

Victoire pat his back, and stayed until he had taken his place on the old wooden chair again. “Sure thing, dad.” She smacked her lips and helped him put the cane away. “I don’t want to hear a word about how I didn’t set the table right.” She closed the door behind her, and a waft of warmth streamed out. She could always see through him like none of the others; as much as it pained him to admit, lifting those steel pots and pans had gotten harder with every passing year.  

The sun shone its brightest rays onto his land as two silhouettes appeared at the cusp of the hill. Both were carrying luggage larger than themselves, both were in a tireless sprint. He could hear them call to each other, echoes of their voices on the mountain walls, but couldn’t make out their words until they passed the gate and the orange apple tree.

“Cheater!”, yelled Nicholas, a smile in his voice. His cowlicks bobbed up and down in the rhythm of his steps.

“You tripped”, Adolphe laughed and cemented his lead by taking a big leap atop a mud puddle in the middle of the stone path.

Arthur yelled at them to simmer down, and berated them for tracking mud all over his dusty porch. They stood before him in their dirty shoes and weather worn coats with the same glint in their eyes they had sported since their youth, when they would reach just about up to his navel. The two of them would run across the fields, trying to chase the sheep around and competing over catching bugs and grasshoppers. He had invented many a game to keep them occupied, but they ones they had loved the most had always been those that posed the most danger. Arthur got up out of his chair, and set his cup aside.

Even though he was panting heavily, Nicholas swept him up in his arms with ease. They were thick as tree trunks, and they had better be, what with the animals and creatures he had taken on himself to care for. Arthur protested the hug with a grumble, but returned it with little prompting even as the life was squeezed out of him. “Aw man, I’ve missed ya, dad!”, his boy said, giving one last squeeze before he returned him to the earth. Arthur coughed.

“I see you’ve been well”, he said, and earned a booming smile. “Karim, you as well.” Adolphe nodded, and he smiled at his father still refusing to use his first, French name. Arthur was pulled in for a second strong hug, and left just as breathless as before. Adolphe had been the oldest out of all of them when he had found him – Arthur estimated at thirteen or fourteen years old. He had always worried the boy would never think of him as anything more but a guardian, a friend.

“Is your back doing alright? I’ve got a few exercises that would set it back a good twenty years.”

Unfounded worry, he realized anew every time he came to visit.

It was hard work convincing Adolphe he did not need the exercises, and harder work pretending not to fret about Nicholas’ as he showed off his newest scars. He fuzzed over Adolphe’s short curls, and sternly reminded both to pack thicker clothing next time, and what did he knit those sweaters for if no one of you brats wore them? They shared a look, and he huffed. Nicholas excused himself to “go greet Vicky”, and his brother, after unloading his luggage next to the crate of beer, took the old rake and shovel to make a round on the property. Arthur sat back down, and let the lukewarm tea soothe his bones.

The sun was starting to set on the surrounding forest’s golden leaves when Matthew set his suitcase down quietly, yet close enough to his chair to startle Arthur from his slumber.

“You’ll catch a cold…”, Matthew’s soft voice nearly got lost in an oncoming gust of wind. Arthur grumbled, half asleep, and chugged some of the ice cold tea in the cup that might as well have been frozen to his hands. The oldest of his children smiled at him in the way only he could; barely there, and yet so full of love and concern, it warmed him right up to his core. Matthew pulled a heavy blanket from the bag slung around his shoulders, and tucked him in it before he could refuse.  

He was the first one he had found. In his darkest hours, he could still trace their encounter moment for moment, breath for breath. Arthur hid his mouth behind the frayed edges of the blanket. He would never forget the cries of the boy, sitting amidst rubble and corpses, still clutching tightly to a dismembered hand roughly the size of his own. Matthew shoved the suitcase with his foot and sat down next to his dad.

They watched the sun go down over the mountains. Matthew told him of the furthest edges of the fringe that he had seen on his travels, of the few people that had made their peace with the edges and the fog and the things that came with it as their family had. He told of the big cities, talked of the makeshift communities and governments spreading and falling throughout the land. He told of the sea, and of the mountains, and his voice gained strength with every word, as if he had to relearn how to talk to another human being. Arthur listened to his stories, and told a few of his own, all of which he knew the boy and all his other children had heard enough to tell alongside him. Still, Matthew smiled and nodded along intently. The entirety of their talk, Matthew held on tightly to Arthur’s hand.

The porch was lit in the dim yellow light of the lanterns Adolphe had lit by the time that Faith arrived. She seemed like a lighting bug at first, the large lantern illuminating her path obscuring the rest of her figure. But the closer she stepped, the more familiar each of her features became, and soon he recognized what used to be the little girl that had jumped into his lap and clung to his leg, the girl that could run laps before she said her first word. He rose before she had set foot on the stones leading up to his house, and both of his blankets unceremoniously hit the ground, stirring up dust and feathers. He hadn’t bothered with cleaning after plucking clean the two chickens for today’s feast.

“Faith…”, he called out to her, and she set down her lantern.

“Dad.” She smiled, and reached for his hand. “I’m home”, she said, and squeezed it tightly.

Arthur pulled her into a hug with a huff, and hid his large smile in her shoulders. She towered over him, just slightly shorter than Nicholas’, and stank of sweat, blood and the marshlands. Her boots were covered in thick mud, as were the tools poking out of her various bags and backpacks. She never would tell him just what it was she was working on.

It didn’t matter; it was Faith, Faith Endana Kirkland, the girl who had chosen her own name. He would trust her with his life, to the end of the earth and the bottom of the fringe. The light cast her dark skin in a soft glow, and he fixed her dirty collar. “You’ve grown so much”, he mumbled, unaware of his words, and she let him speak to himself. They shared a quiet moment. Arthur sneezed, abruptly ending the somber atmosphere, and Faith gently nudged him towards the door.

He shook his head. “I’m still waiting for one more.”

Faith furrowed her brows, and let her hand linger on her father’s shoulder. “Are you sure, dad? It’s getting colder, and the sun has long set…”

He nodded, and she let him go. She vanished inside, and after the stream of warm air from his home had passed, the cold engulfed his body anew. With the bright light of her lantern gone, it was too dark to see more than a vague outline of where he knew the mountains to be. The few stars blinking atop the vast sky were obscured by thick clouds, and the moon’s light barely reached through either. Apart from the muffled conversation and laughter he could hear from his children welcoming Faith home and preparing for the celebrations, it was dead quiet.

It was quiet nights like these he most remembered the time before. There had been no shortage of sounds then, at any given time. Chirping, growling, beeping, constant talk, constant high. There had barely been a night, not if compared with the utter darkness he had grown so accustomed to out here. Sometimes he would allow himself to wonder what would have become of him if it hadn’t happened, and the world had stayed the same.

Arthur sat on his porch and waited for the last of his children to come home. He leant forward in his chair, his arms wrapped tightly around himself to shield from the cold, and trained his eyes on the trail towards the valley. Zea had always been the shortest of his children; if he wasn’t careful, watching like a hawk, he would miss him in the dark. Arthur stood up, and strained his back to light another lantern hung up on the ceiling. They would lead him home; they had to.

Zea had always been the last to come home when he had called, to make sure the candles had been extinguished properly - and always to first to sneak into the kitchen when Arthur was baking. Zea would pretend to help just so he could nip at the dough and watch the bread and cake and pastries rise and fall over the fire. If it was him, then for sure, he would come home one of these quiet nights.

The cold nipped at his skin, and he started shivering. The first of the candles had burned down completely, and wax dripped onto the porch. Arthur stared into the darkness. The door opened, and a stream of warm light fell onto him and his chair. He had to blink, and watched his children pour out one by one. Faith and Nicholas’ grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him off the chair, while Matthew collected the blankets and Adolphe picked the empty tea cups off the window sill. Victoire waited until they had successfully bullied him inside, and extinguished the candles one by one.

As her fingers hovered over the last one, she let her eyes trail over the horizon one last time. The dark stood perfectly still. Victoire extinguished the candle with two fingers, put it back inside the lantern, and closed the door behind her.

 Inside, the green tiled stove bristled and crackled away at the wood it was fed. Faith led her father into the large room that served him as both kitchen and living room, and Nicholas gave him a heavy pat on the back. The large wooden table dominating the right half of the room was filled edge to edge with food: Loafs and bread in all shapes and sizes, peas and corn and apples in bowls and on wonky handcrafted plates, fish on spears and potatoes and pumpkins carved and wrapped and mashed and baked. In the center of the table lay the two chickens he had plucked and marinated and cooked as best he could, adorned with flowers and herbs. There was hardly enough space for their plates, seven of them with chipped gold rims in the greying porcelain.

Arthur hid his face pretending to cough, and made his way through the room under the knowing smiles of his children. They were chattering among them, Victoire commandeering as the rest brought more and more from the kitchen to the table still, and each one had brought a gift with them, an offering for this harvest feast. Victoire poured her brew generously, and Adolphe ushered everyone to take their seats while Nicholas attempted to show off his scars to an unimpressed Faith. Arthur took his place at the head of the table, and waited for his kids to simmer down.

When everyone was seated and the light from the kitchen extinguished, he let his gaze strive around the table. Victoire, hand already twitching to be the first to go for the fish. Nicholas, scratching at the bandages covering his forearm. Adolphe, with his leg bouncing under the table as if a second of standstill would be his end. Matthew, a soft laugh on his lips as he listened to Faith reprimanding her brother, and Faith herself, not a second later, pulling faces at the carved pumpkins. Zea, on who’s plate they had lit a single candle, and placed the best piece of each of their gifts.

Arthur sat at home, surrounded by his children. Food, drink and company warmed him to his bones, and their smiles were contagious. They linked hands as they thanked the land for the successful harvest, and held on longer, waiting for their father’s tears to dry. He listened to them talk of their lives, their failures and their victories. And when they would wave goodbye, he would once again sit on his porch, waiting for the wind to bring them home.

#hetalia #aph england #aph kenya #aph canada #aph australia #aph cameroon #aph seychelles #kuzeykirkland #aphgenficexchange #this kind of grew into a beast #hell Yeah thats a lazy wild swans at cool reference #hell Yeah do I have in depth thoughts about literally everything ive alluded to in this thing #i could write a whole solo series about each of their lives tbh lmao #Anyways BOY i sure am a sucker to take post acop settings and turn them into quiet and somber character pieces huh!!!!

[chocolateturnip]

Happy late birthday, KuzeyKirkland! I decided to write you a quick story about one of your favourite pairings. I’m afraid that I still don’t really ship it myself, but it was fun and easy to write. :)

Featuring NSFW LuxMold under the cut (with both as adults, obviously).

(Luca: Luxembourg, Andrei: Moldova)

When it came to the bedroom, there were two options.

Either Luca topped, and they would make love. He liked to take his time pleasuring Andrei, stroking his skin and whispering sweet nothings as he thrust into him with gentle force. These were the nights in which they would lose themselves in the romance. The nights for sensuality, and slow passion that crept up on Andrei gradually. Every moment would be long, lingering and indulgent. Yet Andrei still wished that it could go on for longer. Having Luca ravish him felt so sublime that he wished it could never end.     

Or alternatively, Andrei topped. And whenever Andrei topped, it could only be described as fucking. Raw, dirty fucking. There was a certain look Andrei had in his eyes when he took Luca, something hungry and desperate. He sucked Luca’s neck, scratched his chest, pounded him frantically into the mattress. And God, Luca loved it. He made no secret of that. Not when he was moaning appreciatively. Not when he was begging for more. And certainly not when he threw his head back and screamed Andrei’s name as the pleasure finally overwhelmed him.        

Yet regardless of the many differences, something that remained the same was the afterglow. They would both be so tired and so spent that it was all either of them could do to hold each other, kissing lazily. Their breathing was heavy, their skin was slick with sweat, but they still couldn’t get enough of each other. Sometimes Luca found himself mumbling about how beautiful Andrei was, the words becoming indistinct as he descended further into happy exhaustion. Sometimes Andrei would twist Luca’s hair and hum him a love song while his eyelids drooped closed. And without fail, it would always end with them dozing off in each other’s arms— a comfortable sense of love and belonging settling between them as they fell asleep.  

#kuzeykirkland #luxmold #aph moldova #aph luxembourg #enjoy!

[peteradnan]

history of tumblr user @kuzeykirkland being problematic™

fucks fish

fucks fish in latex

fucks robot fish in latex

fucks robot fish in latex calling it daddy

likes to ship gardeners

likes to ship dads

likes to ship drunks

is drunk probably

reads chuck tingle

wrote old people bukkakke

feels lust towards a blurry picture of minion rubber duckies

didn’t make a gravity pun when he cOULD

almost named nz ‘moana’

didn’t name nz moana, taking away their chance of having their own movie

played my horse prince

rps sea so punny it hurts, making him best sea rper

made me ship luxmold

supplies me with sad luxmold

wrote about sadik breaking his back on the dancefloor

made a furry oznz au

#kuzeykirkland #I'M DOIN IT

[monabela]

HA @kuzeykirkland I sAID I would do it even if I do have a billion other things  ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ here is an answer to this masterpiece that made me wake up my family members in the middle of the night. Luca Discourse(tm) Pt II, if you will. ft robul being idiots and lux’s dog.

likewise, based on the coincidence of @kuzeykirkland and me each giving half of the luxmold duo the name Luca, I present

Luca vs Luca! The Horror!!

characters/pairings: Luxembourg (Luca Morgens, courtesy @kuzeykirkland)/Moldova (Luca Rotaru), Bulgaria (Stefan), Romania (Dragos), Netherlands (Martin), Belgium (Manon)

word count: 1830 summary: Luca Morgens is very confused when he receives a text message from an unknown sender who knows his name. It’s not as creepy as it seems.

Unknown [14:35] Luca just so you know your brother decided it would be a great idea to get himself admitted to the hospital AGAIN

“What?” Luca whispers, holding his phone away from his face as if that will cause the message to make any more sense. Something’s wrong with Martin? But – again? And who is this?

Luca [14:40] What’s wrong with him? And who is this?

Unknown [14:41] This is stefan! Sorry ha he just tripped over someones dog he will be fine Unknown [14:41] Im waiting for him

That did not help. Does he even know a Stefan? Does Martin know a Stefan? It’s not unlikely, Luca decides. His brother has many acquaintances he’d rather not get too close to. Whoever this Stefan is, he’s probably alright, if he went to the hospital with him. The man probably got his number from Martin, then. He decides to take the non-explanation in stride and quickly types a message back.

Luca [14:43] Okay, thank you. Should I come over? Or does he need anything?

Unknown [14:44] Nah hes ok. Im gonna tell him to send a message or call when hes out alright

Luca [14:45] Alright. Thanks again!

He decides to add the unknown number to his contact list as ‘Stefan’, just in case. It’s odd, certainly, that Martin would give this man his phone number; they aren’t that close when it comes down to it, but it’s also strangely flattering. Maybe he should let their sister know… Ah, it will be alright. Martin can call her later. It doesn’t seem to be very serious.

Tripped over someone’s dog… How ridiculous. Luca goes back to work.

Later, after dinner, he calls Martin, because Luca hasn’t received a message from him yet and is starting to get a little worried. His brother is not the sort of person who forgets things like that. Perhaps the Stefan person forgot to tell him.

“Luc, hey. What’s up?”

Well, he sounds fine.

“Hello, Martin. I just wanted to ask if you’re alright now. After this afternoon.”

There is a long pause on Martin’s end of the line, some crackling.

“What do you mean?” he asks after a while. “What happened this afternoon? Are you alright? Is Manon alright?”

“What?” Luca shakes his head in confusion. “I’m more worried about you. You were at the hospital, weren’t you?”

Martin makes a confused noise. “No? I was at work.”

This time, it’s Luca who is silent for a while. He absentmindedly pats his dog on the head where she is lying on the couch next to him in a little ball of fluff.

“Do… Do you know a Stefan?” he eventually asks.

“No,” Martin says decisively. “Luca, what’s going on?”

“I am not sure. I’ll get back to you on this, Martin.”

They say their goodbyes, and Luca puts his phone away, then picks it back up.

Luca [22:20] Stefan, how is my brother?

He puts the phone away and wants to start a film, but there is a buzz quickly.

Stefan [22:22] Hes fine why do you ask Stefan [22:22] Did he not send a message Stefan [22:23] What an idiot I told him

Mildly affronted at this stranger calling his brother an idiot, Luca begins to type a reply, then pauses. Maybe it isn’t Martin they’re talking about here. Maybe someone else’s brother was at the hospital, and this Stefan got the wrong number off him… But then how did he know Luca’s name?

Luca [22:25] Which hospital was this, by the way?

Stefan [22:25] HBU hospital Stefan [22:26] He says he did send you a message

That is the hospital in this city. A bit of a mystery, it seems. What is the best way to find out what’s behind this? He chews on his lower lip thoughtfully.

Luca [22:27] Did he also send Manon a message?

Stefan [22:27] Manon? Whos manon should I be jealous hah

Oh. No, definitely not Martin. He would never have mentioned Luca and not Manon, for one, and apparently, this Stefan is far better acquainted with the… Mysterious not-Martin person than Luca previously thought. He would know if Martin had a boyfriend. Probably. Perhaps.

Stefan [22:28] Dra says hes never met a manon and to ask if shes your girlfriend

Luca can’t help himself.

Luca [22:28] Dra?

Stefan [22:29] Luca youre not the only one allowed to call him dra Stefan [22:29] Dont change the subject! Is manon your girlfriend

Luca [22:30] Manon is my sister.

There is a long pause. Luca waits, amused despite himself. He tries to recall if he’s given his number to anyone whose nickname could be Dra, but he’s coming up empty. A Dragomir, maybe? Drake? Unlikely. Then again, sometimes details about his Saturday nights do get rather hazy.

Stefan [22:34] I thought wed covered all the rotarus by now gdi Stefan [22:35] After I met your weird cousins last summer Stefan [22:35] How many of you ARE THERE

It seems to be quite serious between Stefan and… Dra Rotaru, if he has met the extended family already. The name Rotaru rings a vague, distant bell, but Luca isn’t sure where it is. He opens his laptop and types a reply while Facebook loads.

Luca [22:37] Stefan, I’m afraid I’m not the person you think I am. My name is not Luca Rotaru, nor can I recall ever having met anyone by that name.

Stefan [22:37] Hold on WHAT

With any luck… Yes! There is only one Luca Rotaru on Facebook. Biting his lip, Luca clicks on his profile. Lives in the same city as him, check. They’re about the same age, too, Other Luca a year younger than him. On the about page, he finds a Dragos Rotaru among the guy’s family members, but his profile picture is too tiny on the screen to be recognizable, and Luca clicks back, not wanting to be creepy.

Although – guiltily, he selects the Other Luca’s profile picture. The guy seems to be his polar opposite in appearance, with dark hair that falls across his shoulders, obscuring what seems to be a duffel coat. He is smiling widely in the picture. His lower lip is pierced twice, and his eyes seem to sparkle. Is that eyeliner?

Oh, but he’s attractive. Luca swipes his own blond hair out of his face, hand hovering over the touchpad of his laptop.

Stefan [22:40] Luca hey Stefan [22:40] Or not luca idk

Without thinking any more about it, Luca sends his namesake a friend request.

Luca [22:41] My name is Luca, but my last name is not Rotaru. Maybe you should ask Dragos if he’s ever met any other Lucas.

Another long pause. Luca idly refreshes Facebook a few times and scratches his dog underneath the chin. He does hope he got the name Dragos right. It doesn’t seem unlikely that he met the man in question while going out and broke his own rule about not giving out his phone number. If he looks anything like his brother… Even Luca Morgens is not the most conscientious person when he’s drunk enough. That doesn’t clear up why Stefan would mistake one Luca for the other, though.

Stefan [22:44] I love dragos but I also really fucking hate him Stefan [22:45] WHO THE FUCK saves their brother as Poophead in their contacts Stefan [22:45] DRAGOS ROTARU THATS WHO Stefan [22:46] Oh just send Luca a text his number is in my phone he says Stefan [22:46] Im really sorry about this man

Luca laughs at the messages arriving in quick succession of one another.

Stefan [22:46] I mean I thought it was weird that you asked who I was Stefan [22:47] But you know, new phones

At the same time the last message arrives, a notification pops up on Facebook. Biting his lower lip, Luca clicks it, finding that Luca Rotaru has accepted his friend request. His heart rate spikes.

Stefan [22:48] You still there?

Luca [22:48] I am. Honestly, don’t worry about it. Tell Dragos I’m glad he’s alright.

Stefan [22:49] Im gonna tell him to stop being so dumb is what im gonna do

Luca [22:50] That too. Have a good evening, Stefan.

Stefan [22:50] You too luca not rotaru

Luca chuckles, then finally puts his phone away. He watches the message about his new Facebook friend for a few seconds and wants to put his laptop away and start his film after all – a friend from his study wrote it and he promised to watch – when another notification appears. A chat message from Luca Rotaru.

Luca Rotaru you aren’t by any chance the guy Stefan is currently freaking out about, are you? :0

Luca Morgens I probably am.

Luca Rotaru this is fantastic nice to meet you, Luca Morgens! I’m Luca Rotaru :D

Luca Morgens Nice to meet you too! Do you prefer Luca or Poophead?

Luca Rotaru Dragos’ name is my contacts is Shitface, fyi I shall be Luca you shall be Lucao ;) hey holy shit we live in the same city!

Luca Morgens We do, as a matter of fact! Hold on why Lucao?

Luca Rotaru bc Lucao damn B^) good to know my brother has taste in something after all

Luca picks up his dog and muffles an embarrassing sound into her fur, feeling himself flush. Suddenly, he wants to check his own profile page to see if there isn’t anything embarrassing on it. Pelutze wriggles in his arms, and he quickly puts her back down on the couch, patting her head and mumbling an apology.

Luca Rotaru too much?

Luca Morgens No, not at all! In that case, you should be Lucao.

His hands are shaking with nervous excitement. He glares at them. He is a Morgens. He is cool and collected. He does not get flustered over messages from virtual strangers.

Luca Rotaru nope no definitely you hey yr dog is cute! :o

Luca Morgens She is, she is.

Luca Rotaru so fluffy! when do you usually take her out walking? maybe maybe I can come and pet her :00

Luca Morgens It varies. Maybe you should ask your brother for my phone number! That way you can always ask me.

Luca Rotaru hA that’s not happening Lucao maybe you should ask Stefan for mine that way you can always tell me ;)

Luca Morgens I’d rather ask you. You know, on Saturdays, around ten is a good bet. I usually take her to Wildrose Park.

Luca Rotaru :^D I might just happen to be around there tomorrow then to pet your dog

Luca Morgens To pet my dog. She will like that.

Luca Rotaru good to know heh I might just see you then

Luca Morgens You might just, Luca Rotaru.

Luca Rotaru goodnight Lucao

Luca Morgens Goodnight!

Lucao. Oh, that is terrible.

Luca grins. He just might have to send Dragos Rotaru a thank you message for tripping over someone’s dog and landing himself in the hospital. He just might.

#I just realized that with the surname Morgens the names Martin and Manon are mildly hilarious #the return of long-haired luca rotaru with lip piercings I keep doing that aaaa #luxmold #kuzeykirkland #Hetalia #aph luxembourg #aph moldova #hmm other characters? #aph bulgaria #fin #w: 2500 #u: human #Luca Discourse

[cloversreblogs]

Heard that @kuzeykirkland is a bit down today, so I drew some OzNz to cheer him up. :)

#oznz #kuzeykirkland #my art #aph new zealand #aph australia

[phyripo]

All the prime numbers hMMMM

Oh wow okay thanks!

2. What’s your most recent fic and how far do you think you’ve come?

Ha well that’s the Luca Discourse™ fic and well since my first ever fic was a songfic to Daniel Bedingfield I think I’ve gotten quite a ways since then :’)

3. In your opinion, what’s your best fic?

That’s actually a hard question hmm. I’m the proudest of A Thought Away, but I’m not sure it’s also the best. The way I see it, that’s Sign of the Times.

5. In your opinion and without looking at any numbers, what’s your most popular fic?

Probably Destiny’s Chance? Which is sort of confusing ??

7. What’s the fic you most want to continue (unfinished or no)?

Oh well I’ve been working on the second chapter of Life Less Ordinary forever and it’s a really interesting chapter but there’s also a lot of other stories I want to tell in the same universe!

11. Have you ever written a fic for a concept you know someone else has done before? How did it impact your writing process or feelings after posting?

Yes, certainly, although never in the same fandom. I always hope I approach it differently enough that no one notices heh

13. What’s the biggest change between your style when you started in fandom and today?

I learned English. No but really, when I started writing fanfic, I was… Fourteen? Fifteen? Anyway, I really wasn’t that good at English yet, much as I thought I was. I like to think I’ve gotten better at that. :’D

17. In your opinion, what’s your most overrated fic?

Destiny’s Chance probably…

19.If you had to pick one fic/scene/chapter of your work to describe your entire portfolio to a stranger, which would you pick?

Oh wow uhm… For some reason I’m tempted to say the first (and so far only I cry) chapter of Life Less Ordinary. Not entirely sure why.

23.What’s the nicest review you’ve ever gotten?

Hmm I’ve gotten a lot of very nice reviews on A Thought Away! Including some people that started shipping things and/or watched Sense8 because of it. Those are all amazing! Making someone ship something is the Most Best.

29.Does the division of your writing across fandoms line up with your reading? What’s the biggest discrepancy?

Oh no I really only write for one fandom haha but I read for a lot more! Actually I… Barely read any Hetalia fics. It kind of varies what I do read.

31. Who’s the one character you’ve just never managed to get perfectly right?

N O R W A Y he’s really difficult. Also Belarus is hard to get a hold of.

37. Have you ever purposefully bashed a character/ship in a fic?

Nope.

41.If you cross-post your fics on multiple sites, do you have a favorite? Are there certain fics you would only post on certain site?

I’m kind of weirdly fickle about what I post on Tumblr and what I post on AO3 when I think about it… I can’t find a criterium. I do love AO3.

43.How many views has your least popular fic gotten?

Least popular by views? in gold ink and Sign of the Times both have 53 hits right now, but the first one has way more kudos in comparison :0

47. If someone you know in real life who isn’t involved in fandoms asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first?

If I know the person well enough, I would, certainly. I actually let my mother read Sign of the Times! Because she’s always curious about what I’m writing the whole time. Afterwards I was just like why that one? But since Hetalia has a canon that’s kind of… Weird/hard to understand, it’s probably a good one, regardless of the apocalyptic setting. Aside from that one, I’d say a chapter starts anew!

#kuzeykirkland #quaestiones #HOW Many times did I mention sign of the times omg #'you've never even written norway' surprise I have written A Lot of norway but not under this name

[ladoniasgooglehistory-archive]

How to date an austrian

#kuzeykirkland #*

[ineffable--omens]

Dream Daddy Secret Santa

This is for @kuzeykirkland​, hope you have a very happy holiday season! (alt link)

Lost and Found

Mat x Brian Steampunk AU

Mat walked through the calm streets of Maple Bay. He looked up and saw large airships chug across the sky between thick plumes of gray smoke. The street was quiet, save for the familiar sound of clicking gears and a whistle from some distant steam machine, and Mat was thankful. The hustle and bustle of running a place like the Brass Spoon can be exhausting. If he had one more person leave crumbs all over his nice tables, or, god forbid, try to hold a conversation with him while he was handling a tray with multiple cups of scorching hot liquid-- Mat sighed. He could barely hold a conversation without balancing armfuls of heated drinks sometimes, and what kind of slob leaves a half-eaten tartelette between chair cushions? If it wasn’t for these afternoon walks, Mat might just go mad.

He hummed to himself as he continued his walk, some song from an obscure band that played at the Sound Garden a few weeks ago. This is nice, he thought. Stretching my legs, getting some fresh air… He glanced at the smokestacks looming above the city and frowned. Well, as close as you can get to fresh air. He eyed the dark fumes hovering above the rooftops and felt the urge to cough.

I feel like I’m the only one in this city who can’t stand all the smog and steam.

“Mat!” boomed a voice from down the street, jolting him out of his thoughts. Mat squinted and spied Hugo strolling down the cobbled road.

“Hello, Hugo!” Mat called, waving back. “How’ve you been?” Hugo crossed over to him and gave an enthusiastic clap on the shoulder, knocking Mat off balance more than he’d like to admit. Hugo wore a tawny twill vest over a cream colored shirt, coupled with dark brown pants and a nifty bowler hat.

“I’ve been well,” Hugo replied, holding up a cloth sack. “I bought some nice looking brie from the market and more than half the class actually read the assigned chapter of Copper Bones and Steel last night.”

“That’s great,” Mat said. “Carmensita is reading one of the Wheelwright classics for her class and she loves it. I get a line-by-line analysis of that day’s section over dinner.”

Hugo chuckled, “Glad to hear it. Next time you get a chance, tell her that a great way to annoy her teacher is to insist that Theodore is actually Professor Raven’s long lost son.”

“I have no idea what that means but I’ll let her know,” Mat laughed. “How’s Earnest?”

“Oh, the usual. He got in trouble the other day for lighting his homework on fire behind the school. Tried to say his teacher wouldn’t believe him otherwise. He was also apparently offering to burn his classmate’s homework as well in exchange for one of those new locket bobbles.”

“The Clockwork Hearts?”

“Yeah, you know them?”

“I actually bought one for myself the other day. It’s weird, you go to the shop, they take you into a backroom and have you write down three true loves, two deep fears, and they take one drop of blood. After that they supposedly mix it together and give you a locket imbued with your essence.” Mat held up his hand and wiggled his fingers for emphasis.

“Hm, seems a bit odd,” murmured Hugo. “Is it worth getting?” Mat shrugged.

“Yeah,” he said, “I actually like it. It helps with my anxiety a bit, somehow, even if it’s just a scam.” Mat reached into his coat pocket to so he could show Hugo the locket, and fished around for a few seconds before frantically checking his other pockets.

“It’s gone.” Mat groaned. “Yep, gone. Damn. I only got it a few days ago.”  

“That’s not good,” said Hugo. “Can I help you look? It must be around here somewhere.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think I have time. We’re hosting an open mic tonight and I need to get back to set up for it. Chances are I left it at home anyway. Will I see you at the show?”

“Depends, are you playing?”

“Well, I- um..”

“I’m just messing with you. You know I’d love to hear you play, but it really depends on whether I think I can leave Earnest home tonight and expect the house to be standing when I return.”

“Oh, alright,” Mat replied. “I hope to see you there, but have a good evening regardless.”

“Thanks, Mat. You too.”

Mat hurried down the street towards the Brass Spoon. His mind was racing with the preparations he still needed to finish, and although he know that his Clockwork Heart was probably just an overpriced pocket watch, he felt a little empty without it.

Brian strolled down a candle-lit street, at ease in the evening dimness. He wore a crisp white button-up and crimson trousers under a long overcoat with silver buttons. He had also donned a rather dashing feathered top hat, or at least he thought so. As he mindlessly scratched at his beard, a glint of light caught the corner of his eye. He turned and saw a small heart-shaped locket on a silver chain resting on the cobblestone street. Brian paused, quickly looked down the lonely street to see if it’s owner might be nearby, and decided that whoever lost it must be long gone. He picked up the locket and squinted at it. He knew that he shouldn’t take it, but he also didn’t want to just leave the locket there, abandoned. After a minute, he placed it in his pocket. Maybe someone at the open mic will recognize it, he thought. As he continued on his path underneath the glowing street lanterns, he pondered who it might belong to. One of his neighbors? A hurried duchess leaving her forlorn husband? He made up elaborate fantasies as he walked. A clumsy pickpocket who was caught and ditched the evidence, or a lover who uncovered a marital affair and couldn’t bear to keep the locket, which had been a gift from their cheating spouse. Maybe the owner is a dashing prince who would sweep Brian off his feet. Brian chuckled. Whoever the mysterious owner was, Brian hoped he could meet them.

Brian pushed open the door to the Brass Spoon and was greeted with the sight of a hearty crowd. He spotted a few of his neighbors around the tavern, like Joseph and his herd of children in matching waistcoats, and Lucien with a group of his friends crowded at a corner table. Across the room he noticed Amanda and her father- what was his name again?- sparring with their forks over a bowl of chips and melted cheese. Brian smirked at his poor technique, he should know not to relax his wrist. He walked over to an empty seat at the counter. Pablo strutted over to him grinning, his seafoam green hair tied back in a high bun.

“What’s up, Brian!”

“Good to see you, Pablo,” Brian responded cheerfully. “I’ll have a green tea if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Sure thing,” Pablo replied. “Glad you can bend an elbow. How’s Daisy?”

“She’s great. She just designed a self-imploding lock in tinkering class.”

“A what now?” asked Pablo as he poured fresh tea into a cup.  

“It’s a lock that melts its insides after a failed attempt at unlocking it. Renders any lockpicking useless. She got an A+ for the project and a company has offered to buy her blueprints.” Pablo slid the warm cup across the counter to Brian.

“That’s pretty sweet.”

“Yeah, I’m proud of her.”

The other patrons began to cheer and Brian turned his head to see Mat walking onto the small stage in the back of the tavern. He wore a simple suit with embroidered shoes, and his hair had that messy, I-didn’t-have-time-to-style-it-but-I-still-look-good kind of look that Brian found himself really liking.

“Welcome to the Brass Spoon open mic, everybody!” said Mat. Brian felt the locket grow warm in his pocket. He fished it out of his pocket and held it in front of his face. Maybe it was just the glint of the lights but he could swear it had started to glow.

“We’re so glad to have you all here tonight. We have some pretty great people performing, so I hope you’re all excited. At least, I think they’re pretty great, and all of them are cool people so I think you should be excited.” Mat stuttered and tugged on the bottom of his jacket. “But I can’t control you so if you’re not, um, well, I think this intro has gone on way too long so I’m gonna introduce the first act. Please welcome Cecilia to the stage, who will be performing an original piece on her flute.” The audience clapped and Mat walked off stage as Cecelia unpacked her instrument from its case. Brian saw that Mat’s cheeks were bright red, and he sympathised with Mat’s struggle of being up on stage and not knowing what to say. Still, it was kind of adorable.

The lineup consisted of Cecilia, two kids who performed a singing duet, a “retro-steamwave” pianist, lackluster stand-up comedy from one of Lucien’s friends, and a small set by a local rock band. After they concluded their last song with a rousing D chord, Mat returned to the stage to end the night.

“Thank you, Gears For Fears, for that fantastic performance. Make sure you check out their new album, they’ll be selling some copies at the door. That brings an end to our night, everybody, thank you all so much for coming-”

“What about you, Mat?” rang Pablo’s voice from behind the counter. A chorus of echoes rose from the crowd. Mat winced and said, “Oh, I’m sure you all don’t need that…” Amanda started a whisper chant and the audience joined in until the room was bursting with, “Mat, Mat, Mat…” cheering for him to perform. Brian smiled and clapped along, but paused when he felt the locket turn ice cold. Mat forced a smile and raised his hands in defeat.

“You all are lucky I’m so susceptible to peer pressure.” The crowd laughed and Pablo raced up to the stage to hand him an acoustic guitar. As Mat slung the guitar strap over his shoulders, Brian noticed that he was fumbling with his positioning and wiping sweat off his forehead. He frowned and ran his thumb over locket’s clammy metal surface. Despite his anxiety, Mat sat down, took a deep breath, and began to play. The song was breathtakingly beautiful, wrought with passion and gentleness. Although there were no words, Brian knew it was a love song. The locket began to pulse with warmth in his hand. Brian was captivated by the music, but more so by the man playing it.

It wasn’t his first time performing in front of a crowd since Rosa passed, but it never seemed to get easier. Mat finished the song with a slow pick up the strings and the crowd erupted in a standing ovation. He fought every instinct he had to not bolt off stage, but somehow managed to thank the crowd and even remind them to check out the album selling at the door. After a few minutes of recuperating in the back, he finally reentered the room and and tried to quietly slip behind the counter. Mindless work like dishwashing was a great break from all the talking and performing, and there was a generous heap of dirty plates and cups that would gladly provide that relief. Mat grabbed soap and a rag and started scrubbing. He heard a voice from behind him,

“Excuse me, sir?”

Mat set down the plate and rag, dried his hands, and turned to tend to his customer. He locked eyes with a large, full-bearded man warmly smiling at him from the other side of the counter. Mat gulped.

Oh god.

He’s hot.

The man waved him over and Mat realized he had frozen up staring at him. His legs carried him over to the counter and he tried to casually smile and adjust his messy hair.

“Why, good evening, sir. How can I help you?”

“I just wanted to tell you I really enjoyed the open mic. Especially your performance, it was stunning.” Mat blushed.

“I appreciate that, thank you.”

“You wrote that song yourself, right? It was incredible. What inspired it?”   

“Well, um, it was about love. And, also the feeling of missing being in love.” Mat paused and tried to read the man’s reaction, but ended up just staring into his eyes for a few seconds and awkwardly looking away. Damn it, Mat, play cool. “It’s been awhile since I’ve been in a relationship.” The man grinned,

“No way!”

“What?”

“I don’t believe that after seeing you and hearing you play. Surely everyone is dying to be with you.”

Mat just stared.

“I know that I wouldn’t pass up an opportunity like that.”

Mat squinted in mild confusion.

“After all,” the man smirked, “how could anyone resist someone so good with their hands?”

Mat’s eyes widened as he finally realized what was going on.

“Oh! Um, yeah I guess,” he stuttered, blushing even harder. Damn it, Mat. He tried to casually lean on the counter and look like those sexy men in the movies. “I mean, we close in 20 minutes but I think I could make an exception for a hot dude with a great beard and gorgeous eyes. Especially a hot dude who’s interested in my hands. Want to stick around?”

“Sounds like a plan.” the man laughed. “This dude’s name is Brian by the way,” he reached in his pocket, “and I think this belongs to you.” Brian held out an open hand with Mat’s Clockwork Heart. Mat stared at it in disbelief. He looked at the locket, then at Brian, and back at the locket before slowly reaching for it. He grabbed it and let his hand linger before pulling it back quickly.

“Wow. Thank you.” Mat smiled at Brian and returned to the sink, heart racing, trying to hurry through the heap of dirty dishes. The Brass Spoon was nearly empty but it might as well have been the lunch rush. He couldn’t stop thinking about who was sitting just a few feet away, and the gift that had just been returned to him resting around his neck. He had returned the locket, but Brian still had Mat’s heart, and Mat hoped he might have it for a long time.    

  @ddaddsss

#dream daddy #ddadds #brian harding #mat sella #fanfic #Brian x mat #ddaddsss-2017 #ddaddsss2017

[kailuabunny]

Tag Game

19 random FACTS about yourself that may surprise people.

I was tagged by @aph-hanafuda, thank you!  Sorry this took a while.

1. Do you make your bed everyday? -  Yes, sometimes two times a day.

2. What’s your favorite number? - I don’t have one.

3. What is your dream job? - English teacher in a Nordic or Baltic country.

4. If you could, would you go back to school? - I’m still in high school, so idk what it’s like to be done with school yet.

5. Can you parallel park? - I don;t know how to drive.

6. A job you had which people would be shocked that you once held?-  I’ve only had one job.

7. Do you think aliens are real?- Yes, the universe is just so big, i think there is probably some out there. 

8. Can you drive a stick shift? - I don’t know how to drive.

9. Guilty pleasure? - I don’t think a have one tbh.

10. Tattoos? -  None.

11. Favorite Color?-  Purple.

12. Things people do that drive you insane? - I don;t like it when people dis-organize things at work.

13. Phobia/fear? - The first thing i think of are bees/hornets/wasps/etc.

14. Favorite childhood game? - I really loved JumpStart.

15. Do you talk to yourself? - Sometimes, i talk a lot in my head though.

16. Do you like doing puzzles?- Yes.

17. Favorite Music? - I like a lot of stuff, but my favorites are European folk, rock, pop, and any combo of the 3.

18. Tea or Coffee?- Tea.

19. First thing you remember you wanted to be when you grew up? - A scientist. 

And i tag @missbelgium, @furealdo64, @caramelcakepops, @poploppege, @aph-belarusia, @tallysphinx, @kyuhu, @kuzeykirkland, @omuii, @hetalia-rosegarden, and @shoelace-and-friends!

#tagged #my post

[kimanda]

Presenting: Essex and Essex! Yes, they're both aph Essex OCs. The one to the left is @kuzeykirkland‘s Essex and the one to the right is my own. What prompted me to draw these two together? Well because Ciarán's version is goddamn adorable and I really wanted to draw his Essex! Oh and I threw mine in because I could just imagine how he might react at the sight of the other. The human name I chose for my Essex is Leofwine, which I chose ironically because he's not a "dear friend" as his name suggests. Quite the opposite, my Essex was quite into mocking others. So I can just imagine my Essex laughing at the other Essex's hair and asking if the other had ever seen a brush before. I don't think he's realizing that the other Essex has a sword and could make good use of it.

#art #hetalia #aph essex

[mintyowlfish]

Alright, tagged by @ono-its-ryane!

Rules: we’re snooping on your playlist. set your entire music library on shuffle and report the first 10 songs to come up. Then choose 10 victims

1. A Thousand Years - Christina Perri

2. A soul of wind (kimi no na wa) - Radwimp

3. Hungarian Dance No. 5 - Johannes Brahms

4. Touch the sky (Brave) - Julie Fowlis

5. While my guitar gently weeps - The Beatles

6. Fresh eyes - Andy Grammar

7. Dark history waltz (from NEW YORK: a documentary film)

8. Send my love - Adele

9. Amrán na Farraige (song of the sea) - Lisa Hannigan

10. the merry go round of life (Howl’s moving castle) - Joe Hisaishi

Let’s see.... @ellalikesbooks, @ghostbowtie, @hipsofsteel, @2pspain, @kuzeykirkland, idk tag yourself for the rest of the 5 slots if you want

#tagged

[chocolateturnip]

Dunno why I thought it appropriate to experiment with art style on a present… but here’s some Danube swimmers???

--------- Gorgeous AusHun present from KuzeyKirkland! Thank you so much

#what a lovely surprise! #I love the background #it has a beautiful old fashioned feel #aushun #beloved otp #hetalia #aph austria #aph Hungary #submission

[peteradnan]

@kuzeykirkland replied to your post: “i have never fucking thought i would read the very word ‘bukkakke’ on...”:

h o w what even was the story?

a serious one actually: gay men getting arrested at a gym for supposedly attending a stripping party

i can’t find the article that said one of the events was titled ‘bukkakke’ rn but here’s a coconuts article on it

#kuzeykirkland #most are released by now but the strippers and ones caught with drugs are still on arrest

[monabela]

@kuzeykirkland - it’s me again! I was pumped to get your list for the @aphsecretsanta and would totally have written something for every pairing you requested if I hadn’t had a surprising lot to do these past few weeks, but as it stands - thanks for giving me the opportunity to write LuxMold, I’ve wanted to do that for a long while now! I did that thing again where it got way too long. So yes, Luxembourg/Moldova with background Bulgaria/Romania, with the prompts Christmas markets and winter weddings, and lowkey domestic fluff! I hope you like it (despite the fact that it isn’t Christmas anymore :U)

Take One Breath

word count: 10,656 summary: Maybe suffering through hours of his brother’s fretting about his wedding and an endless loop of Christmas songs is worth it, Andrei decides, if a guy like Luca Morgens turns out to be selling waffles next to him.

characters/pairings: Luxembourg (Luca)/ Moldova (Andrei), Bulgaria (Tsvetan)/Romania (Alin), Belgium (Anri), Netherlands (Adriaan)

warning: a non-explicit sex scene near the end (January 5) (also let’s just assume that this is set in a country where you are, in fact, allowed to drink when you’re eighteen so no underage drinking)

also on AO3 (with fancy html tricks!)

December 20

For the first time in his life, Andrei is getting genuinely annoyed by his brother’s company.

“Al— Alin!”

Alin looks up from his phone distractedly, then almost drops the thing when Andrei shoots a sharp look from him to the woman standing in front of their stall.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry!” he blurts, and Andrei rolls his eyes as he scrambles to help the middle-aged woman with her purchase. Without looking, he knows that Alin is going to start talking about his upcoming wedding again right about now, and the woman will immediately forget all about his rudeness to ask him a million questions. Any other time, Andrei would be certain that Alin was using it as a marketing scheme, but he doesn’t seem to be able shut up about the wedding to him either.

And, well, he’s happy for his brother, of course he is, and he loves the man’s fiancé, Tsvetan, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t annoying as all hell to keep hearing him fret over everything and nothing, and who even gets married on New Year’s Eve, anyway? Alin Radacanu, that’s who.

The woman leaves, smiling broadly at Alin and wishing him a merry Christmas. He waves at her, then shoots a smug smile at Andrei.

“Yeah, you’re amazing and you’re getting married, I know,” Andrei sighs, exaggerating only a little.

Alin laughs. “You’re just jealous.”

“You wish, Mr Borisov!” Andrei laughs too, ducking away when his brother swipes at him and protests something about hyphenating. Some people walking by in front of the stall look at them oddly. Andrei grins at them, shaking his hair out of his eyes.

It isn’t that busy on the Christmas market yet; most people are still at work these days, so they’ve seen mostly elderly people since they opened, and most of them aren’t really interested in the Radacanus’ merchandise. Even though Andrei and Tsvetan managed to convince Alin to leave the oddest things at his shop, the collection of tarot cards and shimmery stones and necklaces and swishy scarves is still an odd one out on the market. Most people sell hats and gloves and Christmas decorations from their little wooden houses, and there are a number of food stalls.

In fact, they’re right next to one that sells waffles, and the sweet smell has permeated everything. Andrei is dying for a waffle right about now. Has been for the past few days.

He pushes a glove down to glance at his watch. It’s almost three. That’s a good time for a waffle, he supposes.

“Do you want a waffle?” he asks Alin.

“Hm? Sure. Are you getting one?” He jerks his head at the side of their stall, where the waffle woman sells her waffles. Alin must have mentioned her name – he has talked to her a few times when they both arrived at their stalls, probably about his wedding – but Andrei’s forgotten. He knows she’s quite tall and usually wears her hair in interesting swirls with headbands that match her dresses.

“Yeah.” He opens the door at the back of the little house. “Do you want chocolate or something?”

“Sugar!” Alin calls after him. And, when Andrei loops back around the front of the stall on his way to the waffles, “I changed my mind, I want chocolate.”

“Are you sure?” Andrei asks, without slowing down. Alin leans out of the stall, but doesn’t say anything. Andrei grins.

There is one other person waiting at the waffle stall, so he gets in line behind her and waits patiently, rubbing his gloved hands together. It hasn’t snowed, but it is cold, so he’s holding out hope.

Quickly, it’s Andrei’s turn, and he looks up at – not waffle woman.

He blinks.

No, definitely not waffle woman. A man, pale and blond, thin eyebrows raised at his silence. He doesn’t look like he should work in a waffle stall, Andrei thinks. He looks like he should be in a fucking magazine, with a face like that, all high cheekbones and faint freckles and full lips. Andrei bites his own lower lip. The man leans forward a little, fine hair falling across one eye.

“Can I help you?” he asks.

“Huh?” Oh, shit. “Yeah, ah— Two waffles, please?”

“Right away,” says the man, smiling faintly and turning to pour batter over the waffle maker. Over his shoulder, he asks, “Do you want a topping? We’ve got chocolate—”

“Chocolate, yes,” Andrei blurts.

“Both of them?”

“Yeah, yeah. Please.” He bites his lip again, trying to calm his heart by taking steady breaths. Andrei knows he is prone to falling head over heels for every other attractive person he sees, and this guy is definitely one of those. It’s nothing to be concerned about. Or embarrassed, or whatever the hell is causing his breath to get stuck in his throat when the man takes his money with long, thin fingers and another faint smile.

“What happened to…” Well, he can’t say waffle woman, can he? He gestures vaguely at the stall. The man looks around.

“Anri?” he asks, and for a second Andrei thinks he just said his name, but he shakes his head quickly, then nods. “She’s just on a break, asked me to look after her waffles. Were you looking for her?”

Andrei shakes his head again. “Not really, no. My – my brother would probably like me to say hi to her or something.”

“Your brother?” the man asks curiously, as he swipes his hair out of his face with an absentminded gesture and picks up the waffles in the same motion. Andrei inclines his head toward Alin’s stall. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see his brother prattling on to yet another old woman.

“He’s right over there with his stuff. He talks to her sometimes.”

“Does he?” The man’s eyes sparkle, though he’s looking down at the chocolate he’s pouring over the waffles. Andrei bites his lower lip again. The man turns to him, reaching over to hand him the waffles. He’s probably not that much older than Andrei, he reckons. Early twenties at most.

“Shall I pass a message?” he’s asking.

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it. I’m sure they’ll see each other around.”

“Well, enjoy your waffle, then, and have a good day. And happy holidays.”

“Same to you.” Andrei grins, biting his lower lip again and glancing away when the man smiles, hair falling back over his right eye. “See you.”

He nods, and Andrei walks back to Alin to get him his waffle.

It is the best waffle he’s ever had.

December 21

Still no snow, and the Christmas music playing at the small ice rink in the middle of the market is starting to irk Andrei, though he thinks that has more to do with Alin’s attempts at karaoke than the actual noise.

Well, he’s stopped now.

He’s stopped. Andrei glances around the stall suspiciously, and sighs. Alin’s gone again, probably out back calling Tsvetan or his man of honor or future mother-in-law or whoever the hell else, leaving him to fend for the merchandise all by himself. He pushes his fingers through his hair, gathering it up in the back as if to pull it into a ponytail, but the front strands escape immediately, flopping into his eyes. He sighs again.

Someone clears their throat. Andrei whirls back to the front of the stall so fast that his hair slaps against his cheek, apologies ready for undoubtedly yet another old—

“Oh,” he says. “Hi!”

The man’s eyes widen, a careful smile edging around his full lips. Andrei sucks his cheeks in and forces his gaze up to the sparkling eyes. This time, he is the one looking down at him. The guy from the waffle stall. If possible, he looks even more handsome than yesterday, bundled up in a long grey coat, with a green scarf knotted around his neck.

“Can I help you?”

“Yeah, I think so. Anri sent me over.” He pushes the curtain of blond hair away with leather-gloved fingers.

“Anri, right, your…”

“Sister.” He smiles. “We seem to be in the same predicament with our siblings.”

“It seems so.” His sister! Score one for Andrei; at least she’s not his girlfriend. For once, he’s hoping that Alin and Tsvetan – or whoever – get into one of those ridiculously finicky discussions about the wedding, about the tassels on the tablecloths or something, and his brother stays out back for an eternity.

“So, your sister, what does she want, then?”

“I’m actually… Uncertain. She was rather unclear, but it should be a gift for a woman.”

That shouldn’t be too hard. Andrei helps the man select a necklace with a nice green stone that, he notices completely on accident, matches not only his scarf, but his eyes as well.

Some other people slow down to look at the merchandise, but no one actually stops, and the man seems to have no compunctions about lingering a bit longer.

“So where is your brother?” he asks curiously, leaning his elbows on the wooden counter.

“Out back. Probably freaking out about his wedding.”

“He’s getting married? Congratulations! When’s the party?”

Andrei leans on the counter too, arms stretched so his feet lift off the ground and he is standing on his tiptoes.

“The 31st.”

“December 31st? New Year’s Eve?”

“Yep.”

“Good grief. I’ve never heard of anyone getting married on New Year’s Eve before.” He looks around at the merchandise, gaze lingering on a moon chart. Andrei chuckles.

“It wasn’t his idea, believe it or not. If it’d been left up to him, they would probably be getting married on a new moon or a full moon or whatever the fuck kind of moon. His fiancé’s way weirder than even I give him credit for. Has to be, to put up with my brother.”

That makes the man laugh softly and turn the green gaze on Andrei.

“It must be hectic.”

Andrei rolls his eyes. “You have no idea. I think he’s freaking out about pictures at the moment. No one wants to work on New Year’s Eve, so they can’t find a photographer. At this rate, I’m gonna have to do it.”

The man suddenly stands up straight and rifles through the pockets of his long grey coat, pulling a piece of paper out. He takes one glove off and smoothes the paper on the counter.

“Do you have a pen?” he asks Andrei, who hands him one curiously. He eyes the glittery purple thing in amusement, but removes the cap and scribbles something on the paper.

“If your brother and his fiancé still need a photographer when he’s done freaking out, you can tell them…” He carefully folds the piece of paper in two and rips it along the line. “You can tell them that my brother is a photographer, and he would be more than happy to take pictures, even on New Year’s Eve.” He looks up at Andrei through pale eyelashes while he folds both pieces of paper one time.

“Oh, really? They’d appreciate that!”

“Good. So this is for your brother,” he says, holding one scrap between index and middle finger. Andrei plucks it from his hand, grinning. Alin will be pleased.

“And this…” He holds the other piece out. Andrei takes it slowly, curiously. “That’s for you. Nice seeing you again.”

“For me? I—”

The man is pulling his glove back on and tucking in his dark green scarf. He picks up the necklace for his sister, putting it in his pocket.

“Thanks again. See you, perhaps. Let me know.”

He disappears quickly into a small crowd that mills by. All Andrei can do is blink after him. Then he looks down at the paper he’s holding, the second piece. Slowly unfolds it.

Grins at the name and the phone number that greet him in elegant glittery purple hand.

Luca Morgens (from the waffles) 24 25 759 39

I’ll be around for a while longer

The door bangs open and Alin strides in, gnawing on his lower lip. Still grinning, Andrei gives him the other piece of paper.

“I found you a photographer.”

December 22

In the end, Andrei doesn’t even have to send Luca a message, because he sees him walking by the next day, hands in the pockets of the grey coat and gaze lingering on the Radacanus’ stall. Andrei is hidden by the scarves, so the man doesn’t see him, but he quickly tells Alin to mind his business and bolts out the back door without paying attention to his reaction.

When he loops back around the front, he hears his brother shout after him, but he grins and dashes after the familiar grey coat. Luca doesn’t seem to be helping his sister today. Andrei catches him by the shoulder.

“Hey!” he says brightly when the man turns around, trying to keep his breathing even. Now that they’re on even ground, Luca turns out to be just a little taller than Andrei. He smiles, turning fully to him.

“Hi! I didn’t see you.” He gestures at the stall, then raises one eyebrow. “Your brother doesn’t appear to be very happy at the moment. At least, I assume that is him.”

“Probably.”

He nods. “You look a lot like him.”

“So I’ve been told.” Andrei bites his lip. “Don’t pay attention to him. I, ah… So, Luca? That’s a nice name.”

“You think so? Thanks.” The man pushes his hair out of his eyes. “I hope I didn’t… That is to say, I hope you didn’t mind me doing that.”

Andrei laughs. “Do I look like I mind?”

Luca shakes his head, obviously amused – his eyes are twinkling again.

“I’m Andrei,” he offers.

“Andrei. Nice to meet you. Again. Do you have time to walk around the market with me? Your brother seems to be insisting you come back.” He squints past him at the man in question.

Huffing, Andrei waves it away. “He’ll survive without me. Let’s walk!”

And so they take off, past the waffle stall – Luca waves at his sister, who grins at the both of them delightedly – and saunter to the ice rink on a platform in the middle of the square. It’s slowly been getting more crowded over the past days, but the way the Christmas holidays fall this year, most people are still not free from work, so it’s still nowhere near as busy as it could be.

They lean on the wooden banister and watch the skaters stumble and glide. Andrei can’t help but hum along to the music. He sees Luca smiling from the corner of his eye, and grins at the man.

“Do you and your brother do this more often?” he asks. “The Christmas market?”

“Only the second time, this year. It’s fun, though. It’s something different. What about you and your sister?”

He looks down at his gloves, then at Andrei, who leans his hip against the railing, turning towards him. When Luca turns to Andrei too, it brings them well within each other’s space, but neither of them moves back. Score two, Andrei thinks gleefully. This is promising.

“She usually handles it well enough by herself, but I’ve always liked helping her out now and then. As you say, it’s something different.” He slowly wets his lips, gaze flickering between Andrei’s face and the ice rink. “What do you do, usually, rather than sell necklaces?”

Andrei laughs. “I started studying history earlier this year.” He practically sees Luca start the mental math; how old is he? He decides to save him the trouble. “I’m eighteen. I also help Alin out in his shop and I’m starting as a bartender after the holidays.”

“Oh, wow. You’re very busy.”

“That I am.” He bites his lip, smiling lopsidedly. “And you?”

“I’m twenty-one, for starters.” His gaze remains steady on Andrei’s face now, and Andrei can only look back. “And I’m hoping to finish my cinematography study next year.”

“Cinematography? That’s cool.”

He shrugs, looking through his lashes. “I like movies. Say, Andrei, how do you feel about skating?”

With a glance at the ice rink, he replies, “Neutral? I’m not very good at it, but it’s fun! Are you suggesting…”

“We’re here now, aren’t we?” He raises one eyebrow. “Yes? No? I promise I can catch you if you fall. I did figure skating for a while when I was younger.”

Well, Andrei can’t possibly say no that, can he? He doesn’t think he’s ever met anyone who actually did figure skating.

“Yeah,” Luca says, when he asks as they wait in the small queue, “I did all kinds of posh sports as a child.”

“Is figure skating a posh sport?” Andrei laughs. “I didn’t know there was such a thing.”

“Figure skating, hockey, tennis, horseback riding… Oh, I did ballroom dancing, too. Don’t laugh at me,” he adds petulantly.

Andrei laughs anyway, lightly shoving him with his shoulder, hands in the pockets of his big coat. “So would you say that you are posh, or were you faking it?”

“Posh, I don’t know. Rich, yes.”

“Nice,” Andrei says jokingly. Mostly jokingly, anyway. They move forward in line and reach the front, where they can pick out skates their size, put them on, and wait their turn on the ice. Andrei quickly pulls half of his hair into a bun to avoid getting it into his eyes the entire time. When he looks up at Luca, the man nods and smiles, his gaze slowly dragging down to the skates. He meets Andrei’s eye when he looks back up, smiling innocently. Andrei shakes his head, amused.

A throat is cleared pointedly, and Andrei laughs when Luca stumbles and blushes as a woman who is barely stifling her own laughter directs them to the rink. She waggles her eyebrows at Andrei. He quickly turns away before he collapses with mirth.

“Oh, shush,” Luca says when he joins him.

“I wasn’t saying anything!”

“You were thinking.”

“I was, Luca. About a lot of things.” He raises his eyebrows and smirks, then lightly pushes at his companion’s waist. “Well, show me some figure skating!”

“Bossy,” Luca mumbles, but he does loop around the rink gracefully, coat flying out behind him.

“Go backwards!” Andrei yells when he passes by, and he pulls an incredulous face but does. His hair flutters around his face. Andrei holds on to the banister and watches. Eventually, Luca skids to a halt close to him, his breath slightly uneven.

“It’s no fun all by myself,” he says, a twinkle in his eye. One gloved hand reaches out to Andrei. “Come on, then.”

Biting his lip, Andrei takes the hand and finds himself pulled towards Luca, the noses of their skates nearly touching. He clings to the man until his feet feel like they won’t slip out underneath him anymore, then grins up at him. Andrei knows that he can skate, but it’s been a long time since he’s actually done it.

Luca swipes his hair away with his free hand, smiles a little, and turns smoothly so they’re facing the same way. Without further warning, he tugs Andrei along the edge of the ice rink, chuckling when he stumbles at first. However, to Andrei’s credit, he gets into the flow of it quickly, and he probably looks like a bumbling idiot next to Luca, but it really doesn���t matter, because it’s fun. The cold air rushing around them makes his eyes sting and water, but he can’t seem to stop grinning despite that.

His fingers tingle with the warmth bleeding through Luca’s glove. He holds on tighter when the man turns backwards again.

“Oh my god, look out!” he laughs when Luca holds his gaze for a little too long instead of looking over his shoulder, and he’s sure they’re going to crash into the banister.

They don’t do that, but the sharp turn Luca executes does make Andrei’s legs slip out from underneath him, and he takes Luca down in his inevitable fall.

He’s laughing too hard to get up, so he just leans his back against the railing while Luca apologizes, getting up, then seems to realize what Andrei is doing and starts giggling along with him. He sinks back down. His coat pools around him. The ice is freezing through Andrei’s clothes, but Luca pushes at his shoulder good-naturedly, and he barely notices.

They sit there, laughing and leaning on one another, until the woman from before skates over easily to tell them to stop hogging the ice if they’re not going to use it, which results in Andrei having to be hauled up by both of them so they can make a few more rounds around the rink, mostly in companionable silence.

After a while, Luca speeds up a little to a patch without other people on it. Before Andrei can follow, the man’s skates click together, and he makes a small jump, landing on shaky legs but staying upright. He smiles at Andrei over his shoulder. Andrei dutifully applauds, as do a couple standing on the edge of the rink. Luca bows towards them, then skates back to Andrei.

“I’ve never gotten very far in figure skating,” he says.

“Further than I ever will,” Andrei replies, in response to which Luca takes his hand and tries to teach him to skate backwards.

By the time they leave the ice, Andrei has managed to skate exactly zero feet backwards and his ears are burning with the cold. Rather than go back to Alin, he convinces Luca to go and get some mulled wine with him, which they drink cautiously close to the stall where Andrei managed to finagle two cups for the price of one. Luca, he noted, looked duly impressed. He doesn’t know that the guy manning the stall is Andrei’s new boss.

Andrei wraps his fingers around the warm paper cup and inhales the spicy scent of the wine, warming up his entire body.

“This was – is – fun,” Luca is saying softly, leaning his elbows on the high table, both hands curled around his cup, gloves discarded on the table.

“Yeah,” Andrei breathes. The market bustles around them, yet they are caught in each other’s space – Andrei’s gaze lingers on Luca’s full lips as they wrap around the rim of the cup, wine sloshing against them. He blushes when a corner of them tips up and takes a large gulp of his own drink.

“So,” Luca says, and he licks his lips, the traitor, “it would be fun do to it again?”

Andrei grins. “I think it would. You wrote you’d be around for ‘a while’, right?”

“Until the end of the holidays. I live in the next city over, though…” He looks down at his cup, tipping his head back to drain the last of his wine, which reveals a long, pale neck. Andrei glances away quickly, but he still catches a faint smirk.

“So yeah, ah… We can text? Or you can stop by whenever, I’ll be helping Alin for a while.”

“I don’t want to keep snatching you from your brother.” Luca laughs.

Well, Andrei supposes Alin does need him back at the stall, especially if the upwards trend in visitors continues. And, as if on cue, he hears his name being called over the noise of people, and grimaces. Luca raises an eyebrow, but then his mouth opens in a small ‘o’, and he releases a short breath through his nose, as if in a laugh.

“I probably should go,” Andrei says, regretfully downing his own wine. Luca stacks their cups, and they walk to the bin together. Alin’s calling is coming closer, and Luca seems amused.

“I hope I’ll see you around then, Andrei.”

Andrei nods. “I hope so too.” He bites his lower lip and pushes the toe of his shoe against the cobblestones on the ground. When he looks back up at Luca, the man is smiling softly, hands pushed into the pockets of his coat. Andrei huffs at the sudden awkwardness, takes a small, resolute step forward, and stands on his toes to press his lips against Luca’s cheek. It’s burning hot.

When he pulls back, Luca’s once-again gloved hands clasp his upper arms, keeping him close. Andrei looks up at him questioningly. The green eyes are searching and half-closed, and Andrei’s heart beats in his throat when Luca comes closer and closer, and his lips press against the corner of Andrei’s. Andrei spreads his hands over the coat, eyes closing briefly.

“I do have to… Alin’s gonna go crazy,” he mumbles, with Luca’s breath still hot on his chin. His lips were soft, and Andrei can just imagine how amazing it would feel to have them pressed against his own, or all over his body, maybe… He clears his throat and steps back, willing himself to resist the temptation.

“Yes. Well, good luck,” Luca says. “See you.” He runs his hand up over Andrei’s arm and strokes his jaw quickly as he pulls his hand back.

“See you.” He flashes Luca a smile, then dashes off in the reaction of Alin’s voice before he manages to linger even longer.

“Andrei!” Alin yells when he sees him. “Come on, you can’t just run off like that!”

“Sorry, sorry!”

It’s a good thing his brother is so frazzled, Andrei thinks, so that he doesn’t notice Andrei’s perpetual grin.

December 23

Andrei is barely awake yet, and it’s hard to keep track of Alin’s movement through the kitchen. He flits and flutters from here to there, mumbling to himself. On the opposite side of the table, Tsvetan calmly crunches through his cereal while he reads the newspaper. He glances over his shoulder at Alin.

“What are you doing?” he mumbles.

“Have you seen the honey?”

Tsvetan gestures with his spoon, mouth full as he answers, “It’s right there, love.”

“What?” Alin pushes his hands into his hair. Andrei holds the jar of honey up. “Oh. Okay. Thanks.”

He finally sits down next to Tsvetan and restlessly slathers honey on his bread. Tsvetan and Andrei share an amused look.

“I can see you two conspiring against me, you know,” Alin says without looking up. He tugs Tsvetan’s newspaper over, then seems to change his mind and points his slice of bread at Andrei. “Andrei! I meant to talk to you about yesterday.”

Andrei sighs, and Tsvetan raises his eyebrows curiously, pausing in tugging the newspaper back.

“Who was that guy?”

“Ooh,” Tsvetan whispers, and Alin pokes him in the side. He laughs.

“Just someone I met, okay?” Andrei says, rolling his eyes at Tsvetan. “We went for a walk around the market.”

“Someone you met. Okay.” Alin chews on his lip, thin eyebrows knitting together. “I just want you to be careful, okay? How old is he? He looked older than you.”

“Twenty-one, and yes, I’ll be careful.”

“Twenty-one—”

“Alin, come on,” Tsvetan interrupts, amusedly tugging his fiancé’s arm back to stop him flinging honey and breadcrumbs all over the kitchen table. “Don’t be a hypocrite about that, of all things. It’s only three years, they’re both adults.”

“I wasn’t going to – to tell him he couldn’t hang out with him!” He puts his bread down dutifully and points a finger at Andrei instead. “But be careful, okay?”

“You said that before,” Andrei replies. “And Tsvetan is four years older than you.”

“You know what I mean.”

Andrei nods. He knows. He knows Alin gets anxious about being a good guardian for him, even though he has had absolutely nothing to be worried about all these years, and he knows his brother means well. And honestly, he doesn’t mind being coddled a little every now and then. It’s kind of cute, in an… Alin sort of way.

Tsvetan leans over to Alin, putting an arm around his shoulders and pushing his nose against the man’s temple. His dark hair, still sticking up haphazardly from sleeping, pokes into Alin’s eye, and they both laugh. Tsvetan turns to Andrei.

“So obviously, I’ve got no idea what’s going on here, but if you want to hang out with your guy more, I can help Alin out tomorrow, maybe, so you can have some free time?”

“His guy,” Alin mumbles with amusement, pressing his palm against Tsvetan’s chest. Andrei is pretty sure the shirt the man is wearing belongs to his brother, but he’s learned years ago not to pay attention to things like that. It’s very much like thinking about one’s parents having sex to think about Alin and Tsvetan being intimate. In a way, they are his parents, he supposes, innocent childhood crush on Tsvetan notwithstanding.

“Well, I don’t know his name, do I? What’s your guy’s name, Andrei?”

“He’s not my guy, and his name is Luca. And I’d love to hang out with him more.”

Tsvetan grins at him, then kisses Alin’s temple and gets up, putting his bowl and mug next to the sink. “So I’ll help you out tomorrow, Alin. I gotta go get ready now. Good luck at the market!” With a wink, he flounces out of the kitchen.

“Oh, now he proves he has it in him to be romantic,” Alin mutters. And, when Andrei laughs, “That was coming from the man who proposed to me by saying, ‘Hey, don’t you think we should get married?’ over the dishes.”

Still laughing, Andrei says, “I know, Alin, I know.” He’s heard it a thousand times by now. It’s still amusing, though more so when Tsvetan is around to act indignant about his supposed lack of romance.

They eat the rest of their breakfast in peaceful silence. Tsvetan rushes by on the way to work, ruffling Andrei’s hair and kissing Alin, and Alin reads the newspaper while Andrei absentmindedly scrolls through his phone. He sent Luca a message last night, just to make sure he had his number too, but hasn’t received anything back yet.

Later, back at the market and drowning in the smell of waffles and a wave of tourists, he feels his phone buzz. He surreptitiously checks it, grinning when he sees it’s a message from Luca.

[Luca] Sorry for the late reply! I’m not around today, maybe tomorrow? If your brother doesn’t mind that is :)

Full sentences, too. That makes perfect sense for some reason. Andrei checks that Alin is still occupied and quickly types a message back.

[Andrei] np! I told alin i wouldn’t run off today :U [Andrei] but his fiance promised to help out tomorrow so we could hang out then : O

He puts his phone away when his brother glances at him suspiciously, and doesn’t take it back out, despite the buzzing that he feels, until Alin allows him a break.

[Luca] That would be great! Should I just stop by the market

[Andrei] yeah i think that’d work!!

A reply follows quickly. Andrei wipes some breadcrumbs from his screen to read it, and grins.

[Luca] Around noon, then? Maybe we can have lunch somewhere

[Andrei] waffles?

[Luca] Please not : \

[Andrei] I was joking don’t worry : DD i know a few places!

[Luca] Great! [Luca] Your brother didn’t give you any trouble did he?

[Andrei] he doesn’t really do that [Andrei] he did say thanks for recommending the photographer btw : O [Andrei] even if he didn’t know it was you who did that

Andrei glances over at Alin, who’s nearly buried in his blanket of a scarf embroidered with constellations. Really, he sometimes thinks he doesn’t show his brother enough just how much he appreciates everything he’s done for him. Given up for him. He waves when Alin looks up.

[Luca] Good to hear

[Andrei] I should get back now [Andrei] but I’ll see you tomorrow!! : D

[Luca] Go then! :) See you soon

[Andrei] bye :00

“That your guy?” Alin jokes when Andrei returns to the stall, glancing at the pocket of his coat where he keeps his phone.

“Who knows,” Andrei says, tucking his hair behind his ears and biting his lip. “He just might be.”

December 24

The whole town is covered in a blanket of white. Andrei and Alin had a snowball fight in the backyard before packing up and going to the market for their second-to-last day of manning Alin’s stall. Sales have been picking up with the arrival of more and more younger people, and Alin is expecting good business this Christmas Eve.

The Christmas market itself goes on longer, but Alin and Tsvetan want to use the last days of the year to finish preparing for their wedding. Andrei’d had no idea how much work it was to get married. Or perhaps the two of them are just making it into that. They do tend to do that.

Whatever the case, Tsvetan shows up around eleven without a scarf, in reaction to which Alin yanks one from the rack and knots it around his neck before even kissing him in greeting.

“Wow, hello to you too.”

“Can’t have you showing up to your own wedding sick, Borisov,” Alin says, and Tsvetan shrugs at Andrei, who’s trying to stifle his laughter into his coat. Rather unsuccessfully.

The snow on the square has turned sludgy by the time Luca shows up, red nose tucked over the edge of his own scarf.

“Is that the guy?” Tsvetan asks, eyebrows jumping. “Not bad. Is it a family trait to have good taste?”

“Oh my god,” Alin exclaims, slapping the man’s arm while he laughs. “You’re fucking terrible, why are we getting married?”

All three of them are laughing a little hysterically by the time Luca reaches the stall – all the other visitors seem to be giving them a rather wide berth all of a sudden.

“Uhm,” he says.

Alin is the first one who manages to collect himself. He rakes his fingers through his wispy hair, then leans forward, thrusting his hand out at Luca, who shakes it with a small smile.

“Luca, right? I’m Alin, Andrei’s brother.”

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Yes!” Andrei interrupts. His breathing is still uneven, but at least he isn’t laughing anymore. “And that’s Tsvetan, Alin’s fiancé. I’ll come around the back, okay?”

“Sure.”

Alin hugs him before he leaves, as he tends to do, and Andrei can hear Tsvetan starting up one of those awkward conversations he excels at with stranger, so he hurries around the row of stalls to save Luca from that.

They walk away from the Christmas market silently, feet dragging through the watery sludge. Then, Luca huffs. Andrei looks up at him imploringly, and he shakes his head.

“I think your brother was just about ready to give me a shovel talk.”

Andrei groans. “He wouldn’t!”

“I wouldn’t mind. It’s cute. He’s very protective about you, isn’t he?”

“Hmh.” Andrei leads them both to a less crowded part of the old town center, where the streets are narrow and dark, but magical covered in barely-disturbed snow. The river is still rushing in the distance, closing this part of the city off from the young districts with its towering buildings. Andrei often thinks this town itself, his hometown, is what made him interested in history to begin with.

“Do you… Do you live with him?” Luca asks, obviously curious yet unsure about the question. Andrei can’t say he doesn’t understand. It’s an unusual situation he grew up in, he’d be the first to admit that. And not only because, well, Alin is an unusual sort of person.

“Alin raised me,” he says quietly, “since I was seven.”

“Oh,” Luca breathes, breath clouding. He bumps shoulders with Andrei as they walk close together in a still alley.

“I’ve never known my mother.” He licks his dry lips. “And my father died then. Alin was only nineteen.”

“Really? Wow. I can’t even imagine.” Their arms brush again. This time, Andrei feels the long fingers curl around his wrist and slide down to his palm. He looks up at Luca, who opens his mouth as if in question. Before he can say anything, Andrei tangles their fingers together, and Luca smiles beautifully, casting his gaze down.

“I have so… So much respect for Alin,” Andrei says. And that’s all he really wants to say about the matter right now. Luca seems to understand this, because he only nods.

They cross the river and pass the old bell tower standing on the banks of it.

“So where are we going?” Luca asks eventually, and Andrei grins.

“To get lunch! And maybe I can show you Alin’s shop, he’d probably like that. Did your sister like that necklace, by the way?”

He huffs. “I’m not sure. She only asked about you.” He raises a surprisingly eloquent eyebrow at Andrei when he looks up. “Yes, it appears we have been set up, Andrei.”

“I’m not complaining,” Andrei decides.

“Nor I. Where are we going for lunch?”

“Just let me show you, yeah?”

And so they end up in a small, cozy café near the edge of the old town, tucked away in an alley hidden behind the weathered gate. Andrei found it by accident a year or so back, and has since become a regular with his friends from university. He’s slightly anxious about what Luca thinks, because he might have said he wasn’t necessarily posh, but he still exudes an air of calm confidence that, in Andrei’s experience, only comes with the knowledge that one is provided for, and the café is a little… Eccentric.

“Oh!” Luca says when they step inside. He practically lights up in the Christmas lights, eyes sparkling again. Andrei instantly forgets he was worried at all. “This is such a nice place!”

“Yeah?”

“Is this where you’re going to work too, or…”

“Oh, no. This is just a place I like, I guess.”

Luca smiles brilliantly. “Yeah, I can see why. Although,” he adds, now smirking, “I have yet to taste the food.”

Andrei laughs and tugs him to a table in the back, hanging his coat over the back of the scaffold wood bench. Luca is, for some reason, framing the café between his fingers.

“Cinematography,” he mumbles when he catches Andrei watching with bemusement, and blushes. He’s wearing a rich blue turtleneck sweater underneath the coat, which looks just as fantastic on him.

Lunch is great, and afterwards, they wander around the city for a while longer. Everything looks different in the snow, soft and inviting but also harsh, unforgiving, at the same time. Andrei scrounges up some anecdotes from the history of the town, which goes back a long way but isn’t very exciting for most of it, and shows off Alin’s little shop. Luca talks about his study, and his siblings and parents and their Christmas traditions, and before either of them knows it, it’s turning dark and they’re finally back on the Christmas market.

The square, too, looks different in the snow, sludgy as it now is, especially coupled with the rapidly falling evening. The Christmas music doesn’t seem so bad anymore, and everything appears to smell sharper. The spiced wine and cider, wafts of sausages and burgers, the sweet smell of waffles and hot chocolate surround them like a blanket. Luca squeezes Andrei’s fingers and smiles.

Tsvetan is alone in the stall when they get there; he waves.

“Alin’s getting dinner,” he says. And then, as an afterthought, “Hi! Did you guys have fun?”

“Yeah,” Andrei replies, grinning. Luca nods.

“Luc! Is that you?” a woman’s voice calls. Andrei realizes it’s Anri, Luca’s sister, when he smiles and waves at the waffle stall. He does the same, and Anri beams. She has the same eyes as Luca. It’s busy in front of the waffle stall, but Anri’s hair looks as curly and impeccable as always, not a single strand escaping from her hairband. Maybe it’s a family thing.

“Do you need a hand?” Luca asks.

“Oh, well, ah…” She holds up a finger and pours some batter over the waffle maker. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from your…” She gestures at Andrei, who feels himself blushing and hears Tsvetan laughing where he’s now helping a customer.

Luca looks down at him, and Andrei shrugs.

“I had a fun time, but if you wanna help your sister, that’s fine by me.” He bites his lip. “I wasn’t expecting to stay out this long, really.”

He nods and holds a thumb up at his sister.

The two of them walk around the stalls to the dark back. They linger between the doors to the Radacanus’ stall and Anri’s. Luca’s eyes glint in the gloom, blond hair backlit by the fairy lights strung up everywhere. He looks angelic.

“I had a fun time too. I can’t come by for long tomorrow, probably only to pick Anri up for Christmas dinner…”

“That sounds fun. Christmas dinner. Not the fact that I won’t see you much.” Andrei tentatively reaches for Luca’s coat, curling his cold fingers into the lapel, and smiles when Luca wraps his own hands around his wrists, holding him there as he steps closer. “I would like to see you more.”

Luca nods. “I would like that too.” He shakes his hair out of his face. “We’ll figure something out, I guess. Right?”

“Yeah.” Andrei smiles. He moves his hands up, stepping more into Luca’s space, touching the tips of their shoes together. “Bye, then.”

In response, Luca leans forward and presses his lips to the corner of Andrei’s mouth again, but he lingers longer this time. He smells sweet and fresh, reminding Andrei curiously of the summer even though his lips are freezing. He doesn’t move back when he removes his mouth, and only smiles when Andrei turns to him, eyes half-lidded. Andrei swallows and pushes their lips together, tugging on his Luca’s collar.

Luca’s mouth opens a little, softly catching Andrei’s bottom lip between both of his. His hands slide into Andrei’s hair, and he tilts his head, cold nose pressing against his cheekbone. Andrei can’t help but smile as his heart beats overtime, stomach churning with butterflies.

When Luca makes the tiniest noise in the back of his throat, Andrei gasps into his mouth and pushes tighter against him, sending him stumbling back into his sister’s stall.

They separate, laughing breathlessly, but Luca looks more amazing than ever before, flushed and happy, so Andrei can’t help but kiss him again. Their legs lock together. Andrei clasps Luca’s hips.

When they finally part again, Andrei spreads his hands over Luca’s chest, feeling it rise and fall under his touch. The man’s eyes twinkle.

“Yeah, bye,” he says, and Andrei laughs, reaching up to kiss him again, briefly.

“Say hi to your sister from me.”

“I will,” Luca laughs, disentangling their legs slowly. “I should…”

“Yes.” Andrei steps back to let him go. “See you tomorrow, maybe.”

He smiles, opens the door of the waffle stall, and steps in with a small wave. Andrei drags his hand over his burning face, leaning back against his brother’s stall and grinning into the dark.

“I take it you had fun?” asks Alin, out of nowhere. Andrei jumps.

“What—”

His brother saunters into view from the shadows, wearing a lopsided grin. He’s carrying a plastic bag, which Andrei supposes holds the dinner Tsvetan was talking about.

“I thought I’d wait to come back until you’d said goodbye to your guy.”

“Alin!”

He laughs. “Don’t worry, I didn’t look. Wouldn’t want to, come on.”

Andrei pushes his hands through his hair, catching his fingers on some stubborn tangled strands. Alin pats his shoulder as he passes by, opening the door to the stall.

“Come, I’ve got dinner for you too if you want it.”

He does, so he follows his brother back into the stall, blushing when Tsvetan winks at him. Alin only laughs.

December 25

True to his word, Luca only shows up briefly on Christmas Day, when evening is already falling. It’s busy on the market, but Alin doesn’t protest when Andrei leans out of the stall to haul a laughing Luca in by his green scarf and kiss him while Anri is locking up the waffle stall. He does tsk when Andrei almost knocks a stack of cards over, but Andrei only flashes him a grin, unable to feel bothered by it.

“Luca, I wanted to ask you something,” he says, still leaning out of the stall, elbows on the counter.

“Oh?”

Andrei glances at Alin, who nods encouragingly.

“Yeah. I, ah… We won’t be here for the rest of the market because Alin’s getting married, and I was just…” He bites his lip, and Luca raises his eyebrows. “Would you like to come to his wedding with me?”

His eyes widen. “To… Isn’t that…” He looks at Alin, then back at Andrei. “Isn’t that sort of a big thing?”

“If you’re the one getting married, yes,” Andrei says, laughing nervously. “It’s only as big as you make it.”

“I suppose.” Luca presses his lips into a tight line, eyebrows knitting together.

“You’re very welcome,” Alin puts in, and Andrei feels a wave of gratefulness towards his brother.

“But if…” Luca stalls.

Andrei smiles. “If we don’t work out, I hope it’ll just be a good memory. It’s not our wedding, Luca.”

“Well, I suppose you’re right about that.” He opens and closes his mouth a few times, then turns to his sister, who just walks up and is smiling brightly as she always seems to do.

“You should definitely go!” she says. “He’s right, weddings are good fun.” She slings an arm around Luca’s shoulders, and he sighs but smiles.

“Okay.” And, in reply to Andrei’s grin, “Yes, I’d love to come to your brother’s wedding with you. Let me know when and how.”

With a nod at Alin and a clumsy kiss for Andrei, Luca leaves, trailed by his sister, who wishes the Radacanu brothers a merry Christmas and a happy New Year over her shoulder. Andrei and Alin wave, and then Alin slings an arm around his shoulders.

“He’s a good guy,” he says, gesturing in the direction that Luca disappeared. “Tell him to wear something red, remember?”

Andrei grins and tells Alin he will.

December 31

Andrei’s best-laid plans about getting some homework done in the days between Christmas and New Year’s Eve have all proven in vain by a combination of Alin ramping up the restlessness and Tsvetan slowly joining him, and by texts from Luca at inopportune moments. Or opportune moments. It kind of depends on how you look at it.

Whatever the case, the Radacanu-Borisov – or Borisov-Radacanu, depending on who you ask – wedding is imminent. It’s already late in the evening; Andrei has been tasked with greeting the guests along with Alin’s best friend, and so he is lucky enough to be the first person to see Luca Morgens walk in, wearing a fitted dark red jacket with narrow lapels over a crisp white shirt. The man smiles when he sees Andrei, eyes flitting over his own outfit.

“You’re here,” Andrei says dumbly.

“I am.”

“You look amazing,” he breathes, dragging his fingers over Luca’s jacket. He hears Alin’s friend chuckle darkly somewhere behind him, but doesn’t pay attention to the man.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Luca says, smiling and straightening Andrei’s red bowtie. He kisses his cheek quickly. “How is your brother doing now?”

Andrei grimaces, and Luca laughs softly.

“He’ll be fine later, I’m sure,” Andrei says. “Anyway, ah… Let me show you to your seat!”

He does, and he and Alin’s friend join the guests not long after that. It isn’t a big gathering – neither Alin nor Tsvetan has a large family, but Andrei is seated next to Tsvetan’s mother, who keeps drying her eyes with a handkerchief Luca offered her earlier from Andrei’s other side. Andrei is still trying to get over the fact that the man was carrying a handkerchief when the ceremony starts.

He turns his attention towards his brother and… Soon-to-be brother-in-law, although Tsvetan feels like so much more than that. He and Alin have known each other for years, since before Andrei’s father died, and Andrei has had to watch his brother pine after his best friend for what felt like ages. He honestly couldn’t think of anyone better for Alin, and finds himself unable to wipe the grin off his face.

Mrs Borisova clasps his knee when her son says his vows. Andrei pats the back of her hand. He wonders what his own parents would have thought of Tsvetan, but he quickly shakes the thought off. It’s no use speculating about that. All that matters is that Alin loves him.

Before he knows it, it’s time to fulfill his role as ringbearer, which he manages to do without accident. Alin flashes him the brightest smile Andrei has ever seen on his face, rust-colored eyes shining. He begins to understand what Mrs Borisova’s deal is with the crying and quickly goes back to his seat.

The most exciting part is, of course, the reception.

Alin and Tsvetan, being the absolute idiots that they are, show up late to their own party, suspiciously ruffled, but it’s not yet midnight. With all the guests bundled up in warm coats and gloves, they go out into the cold night, which is luckily dry and clear. Andrei grasps Luca’s hand to pull him along to the front of the crowd that quickly gathers around the grooms.

Andrei doesn’t know whose idea it was – most people would bet Alin, but they don’t know that most of the crazy ideas actually start with Tsvetan, who is the worst enabler in the known universe – but instead of a traditional cake cutting, the two of them decided to set off a bunch of fireworks at the stroke of midnight to celebrate the beginning of both the new year and their marriage. It’s ridiculous, and exactly like them. Andrei loves it.

“What’s going on?” Luca whispers in his ear, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“Wait and see,” Andrei teases, and the man squeezes his upper arm.

“It’s almost midnight!” Alin says loudly. “Which means the new year is almost here! And also the end of our wedding day.”

The guests laugh.

“I know, I know. We’d like to end both with a bang, and start the new with a flash!”

Amid excited murmurs from the curious guests, Alin joins a grinning Stefan, and they poise their hands, clasped together, over a button. Ten seconds from midnight, a countdown starts, and everyone loudly starts counting along.

On the stroke of midnight, Alin and Tsvetan press down, and the fireworks go up. Illuminated in blue and red, they kiss with their hands tangled together, and Andrei bites his lower lip hard, unexpectedly overcome by emotion. His brother deserves all the fucking happiness in the world, and he looks happier now than Andrei has ever seen him. The photographer – Luca’s brother, who has absurdly spiky hair – weaves through the people with surprising ease for a man his height and takes pictures from every angle imaginable.

Luca clasps him tightly, and he rests a hand on his coat, hooking his fingers into the collar.

“I think your brother might be a little crazy,” the man mumbles. Andrei laughs.

“He is, and I love him for it.”

January 1

When Alin is finally done hugging everyone and watching the fireworks outside, everyone traipses back in to have pie and champagne. Lots of champagne. Andrei has never seen so much champagne in one place before.

He and Luca have both had their fair share of it. Andrei is feeling slightly unsteady but wonderful, and Luca is grinning.

“You wanna dance?” he asks, wiping his hair away from his face. “I told you I did ballroom dancing, right?”

“Luca, I’m a fucking awful dancer.”

“I don’t believe that for a second, Andrei. You look like you’ve got a good pair of legs.” He pats Andrei’s ass for emphasis. Or something like that, he supposes.

Somehow, they end up dancing anyway, or what passes for it in Andrei’s case. He didn’t lie. He really is atrocious at it, but it makes Luca giggle in the most adorable way, so he doesn’t feel all too bad about it.

He doesn’t feel too bad about much of anything at the moment, in fact, even tripping over Luca’s legs and almost falling face-forward into Mrs Borisova’s lap. He just laughs it off and resumes his flailing around.

He dances with Tsvetan too, and the man hugs him embarrassingly tightly before he manages to escape.

“I feel like I should be jealous,” Luca mumbles. “As your… As… Am I your boyfriend?”

Andrei grins broadly, pressing both hands against Luca’s chest. “If I can be yours too, then yeah.”

“That sounds reasonable,” Luca says sagely. Then he laughs, slides his hands into Andrei’s hair, and kisses him deeply, tongue tracing his lips and hooking behind his teeth. Andrei arches into him, curling his arms around his back underneath his jacket.

A throat is cleared, and they pull apart slowly.

“Oh!” Luca says. “Adriaan! Merry New Year – I mean…”

The tall photographer, whose name is apparently Adriaan, raises his eyebrows.

“Happy New Year to you too, Luca. And you. Andrei, right?”

“Yes, that’s me!” Andrei grins at the man. He’s handsome, he supposes, in a rougher way than Luca is, but they are obviously related.

“Nice to meet you.” Adriaan taps at the camera thoughtfully. “That’s all I really wanted to say. Maybe I’ll see you around then, Andrei.”

“Who knows!”

When his brother is gone, Luca resumes kissing Andrei as if nothing has happened, but Andrei pulls back – albeit with difficulty.

“Hm?”

“We should…” He gestures vaguely at the room, then at the door, but Luca seems to understand what he means.

They’re out in the snow in no time, and into the hotel next door even quicker, kissing all the way up in the elevator and almost missing their floor. Andrei fumbles with the keycard to the room Alin has so thoughtfully booked for him so that no one has to go home drunk, and it doesn’t help that Luca plasters himself against his back.

Once inside, Andrei presses his boyfriend up against the closed door, pushing them bodily together, all warmth and movement and hands scrabbling at his back, dipping underneath his shirt. He tries to unbutton Luca’s shirt while kissing him, but his fingers feel uncooperative and the buttons are so tiny, have they always been so tiny? That’s just unfair. He’s on the verge of ripping the whole thing open, because how ridiculously hot would that be anyway, when Luca shoves him towards the bed and yanks both shirt and jacket over his head.

Andrei has a vague thought about coats, but Luca is coming at him with intent, face flushed and hair messy, and all rational thoughts flee his mind.

They press together, and somehow Andrei’s shirt is gone too, how did that happen? When he falls backwards onto the bed, the world spins for a couple of seconds, and he closes his eyes.

When he opens them, Luca is looking down at him with dark eyes, and their chests press together. Andrei grabs the man’s shoulders to pull him down, kissing him as if he’s starved for it, nails scratching over his shoulder blades. He rolls his hips up urgently, groans when Luca does the same and heat shoots through his body.

There are hands on his hips and lips on his neck, and Andrei blinks at the ceiling.

“Luca,” he breathes. And then slightly steadier, pushing at the man’s shoulders, “Luca.”

He looks up. “Hm?”

“We’re—” He looks up at the ceiling again instead of down at his face, tries to control his breathing. “We shouldn’t do this. Now.”

“What?” he mumbles. The tips of his fingers stroke absentminded patterns into the skin of Andrei’s hips. Andrei swallows heavily and sits up a little straighter. Luca, to his credit, lets him.

“We’re drunk. ’Least I am.” He pushes the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Doesn’t seem like a very smart idea.”

Luca sits back on his knees, licks his lips, and smiles slowly, lopsidedly, nodding.

“You’re right. You’re… Yes, you’re right.”

“It’s ‘cause I’m a fucking genius,” Andrei giggles. “Always know when I’m drunk.”

Luca nods sagely. “So then we just sleep? That sounds good too.”

“Sleep,” Andrei confirms, still giggling.

And so they do, tangled up together and without taking their pants off.

Next morning is hell. They decide not to talk about it.

January 5

Alin and Tsvetan take off on the third day of the year for a week’s holiday together, to celebrate their marriage. This means that Andrei has the house to himself. He takes advantage of this fact by a) not wearing pants, and b) inviting Luca over on the fifth.

To Andrei’s credit, he does do his homework on the two days between those dates, even if he isn’t wearing pants.

Luca looks around the house curiously, poking at Alin’s occult trinkets, asking Andrei to explain what their meaning is, which he does happily. It’s great that he seems so genuinely interested in Andrei’s life.

“I hate champagne right now,” he says, late in the afternoon, reclining on the quilt-draped couch with a glass of red wine. “I’ve had enough of it until next year New Year’s Eve. Or this year, I suppose.”

Andrei laughs but agrees with him. He has draped his legs – he is wearing pants at the moment, though only sweatpants – over Luca’s lap, and the man has been absentmindedly stroking them for a while now. It’s very comfortable. The radio is on in the background, and it’s snowing again. It feels safe, like this.

“How do you feel about cocktails?” Andrei asks.

“Hmm. I do like those, yes.”

“Good.”

He chuckles softly. “Is that so?”

“Yeah! You should stop by the bar where I work sometime, I’ll make you a cocktail. I’m pretty good at them.”

“That does sound tempting.” Luca’s long fingers drag over Andrei’s shin. “I can take the train from my home, it’s barely twenty minutes.”

Andrei grins, tilting his head back to rest it on the armrest of the couch. They probably should decide what they want out of this when they both start school again.

“And,” Luca adds, “you should come over to mine too. I want to get to know you better.”

“You’ve seen me throw up,” Andrei mumbles, and yelps when Luca pinches his foot. “I know, we wouldn’t talk about it! Sorry!”

“I’m sure we could make it work though, right?” Luca asks, voice wavering. He’s taking a rather large gulp of his wine when Andrei looks up at him, cheeks flushed. He sounded so vulnerable.

“I think we could,” he says. He sits up a little straighter and picks his own wine up from the coffee table. “Clink on it?”

Laughing, Luca clinks their glasses together.

When the wine is gone, Andrei stands up and goes to the kitchen to make dinner. Luca wanders in after a while, asking if he needs help with anything and drinking water from his wine glass. He slices tomatoes dutifully and gives Andrei a leg up to the highest cupboard when he can’t reach a bowl.

Well, a leg up. He wraps his arms around Andrei’s ass and lifts him up, which does cause him to have to make an awkward twist backwards but works.

Instead of putting him back on the ground, Luca lowers Andrei to the kitchen counter, dragging his hands back to his hips, where his sweatpants are slung low and a patch of skin has become visible due to his stretching. He runs his fingers over the skin, looking up at Andrei with twinkling eyes.

Andrei quickly puts his bowl aside and scoots forward on the counter so that he can wrap his legs around Luca’s hips. The man smiles. Andrei smirks down at him in response, dragging him against the counter to kiss him.

It starts slow, just a meeting of lips as Andrei cards his fingers through Luca’s soft hair, but Luca makes that small noise again when Andrei tilts his head, like a tiny moan in the back of his throat, and his fingers clench on the skin of Andrei’s hips. He tastes like tomatoes when Andrei’s tongue meets his.

One of Luca’s warm hands drags up over Andrei’s back underneath his shirt, which makes him shiver and tighten his legs. The other hand slides down to his thigh and hooks behind his knee, dragging them even closer together. Luca gasps beautifully when Andrei bites his lower lip, and in response lavishes kisses down his jaw and over his throat. Andrei throws his head back, groaning.

“Andrei,” Luca whispers, lips still against his throat. “I want to…”

“Yes,” Andrei breathes back. “Fuck dinner.” And then, when Luca tries to drag him off the counter, “Oh no, no, I can walk, you’re not gonna carry me.”

If Luca’s legs feel anywhere near as shaky as Andrei’s, it’s probably for the best.

They’re kissing again in Andrei’s bedroom, stumbling this way and that, Luca’s hands both underneath his shirt and Andrei’s fumbling with the buttons on his.

“Must you wear these fancy things?” he grumbles. Luca laughs against his lips.

“I enjoy making life hard, Andrei.”

The way he says his name sends a shiver through Andrei’s body. He pushes the shirt up, and tugs his own off and their chests press together. Andrei kisses down Luca’s throat, drags his teeth along the man’s collarbone, delighted with the sounds that coaxes from his red lips and the fingers that clench in his hair. He’s especially pleased with the way Luca’s hips twitch against his own when he drags his thumbs over his nipples experimentally.

“Andrei.”

“Yes,” he breathes back.

They stumble towards his bed. Andrei somehow ends up on his back, with Luca kneeling over his legs and fumbling with the buttons of his own fitted pants, apparently frustrated. Andrei laughs.

“Oh, shush.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

Luca just shakes his head at him, and finally succeeds in getting his pants open. He settles over Andrei on his hands and knees, kissing him again and letting Andrei push his pants away, which he does delightedly, palming his ass as he goes.

Andrei’s sweatpants come off a lot easier, and then it’s just the two of them pressing, slip-sliding together, Andrei’s hands dragging over every part of Luca’s body he can reach, Luca’s lips everywhere at once, legs interlocking. Andrei’s pushes himself up against Luca, hands curled around his shoulders from underneath his arms, tucking their noses together. Their lips barely-touch. Luca’s long, clever fingers wrap around both of them, and his green eyes are dark and steady on Andrei’s.

Andrei is unsure which of them comes undone first, only that it happens quickly, and he arches his back while Luca pants against his throat, his breath searing hot.

They’re both quiet for a long while, lying in a sweaty, tangled heap on top of the sheets. Andrei strokes Luca’s hair where the man rests his head on his chest. He giggles when Luca loops a finger around his belly button.

“Are you ticklish?” he asks gleefully.

“Not much.”

“I will put that to the test later,” he mumbles.

“Later,” Andrei echoes. He props himself up on his elbows, and Luca sits up, looking at him curiously. “Yes. Later. You’ll have lots of time, I hope.”

He smiles softly, and his eyes twinkle. “I hope so too.”

They just look at each other, but when Andrei wants to lean forward to press a kiss to Luca’s lips, his stomach ruins the moment by grumbling loudly. Luca laughs.

“Dinner?” he asks.

“Sounds good,” Andrei confirms.

He doesn’t complain when Luca decides to wear his sweatpants.

#kuzeykirkland #aphsecretsanta #luxmold #aph luxembourg #aph moldova #robul #aph bulgaria #aph romania #Hetalia #aph belgium #aph netherlands #w: 15000 #fin #u: human #now for the part where I ramble in the tags #the human names were confusing I wanted to call Both of them Luca at a certain point :U #why can't I write things of a normal length #this was mainly based on the christmas market in bruges bc I actually visited that one last christmas #bruges is cute #I also like the one in antwerp

[cloversreblogs]

@kuzeykirkland: ikr? may you find the power to bullshit around the plothole :D Thanks bruh :D

#kuzeykirkland #reply

[phyripo]

kuzeykirkland replied to your post: rejected todaysnetherlands posts: Today,...

these are all glorious what the hell

pfffffff I guess I really am not meme-y enough (although I do have to say the hagelslag one is a good one that I maybe should not have rejected)

#kuzeykirkland #I'm like the only todays_____ admin who's actually from the country they're portraying so there's that at least