Chapter Text
Looking up onto the adjacent platform from the depths from where he was crouched on the tracks, the first thing Ludwig saw was the source of the altercation with raised voices, thinning tempers, and, if he wasn’t mistaken, an unsteady voice close to tears. What also didn’t go unnoticed was that the three voices were all Italian!
Well, one of them was technically Swiss, but was still fluent enough in Italian to argue back. Vash Zwingli had quite a few advantages over Ludwig when it came to being a train conductor. Firstly, Vash had years of experience from his previous position at Zurich station, and true to his homeland’s claim to three national languages, Vash was fluent in German, French, and Italian. He therefore possessed the very valuable skill of being a translator when the situation required. And as the two passengers didn’t seem to speak a word of German and only limited English, the entire conversation was taking place in Italian.
Ludwig’s English was also without issue, but then whose wasn’t in an international train station? Despite hours upon hours of studying the language, practicing in the mirror of his one-bedroom apartment, and even making his way through an Italian translation of The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire by Edward Gibbon, Ludwig would never dare to actually use any of what he had learnt in front of people just to let them watch and laugh at him when he inevitably messed up something simple that even a child would know.
Every time he tried to offer his assistance to a lost tourist who asked him when the next train to airport was, or what was the best route to Cologne with their particular ticket type, the closest Ludwig ever got was a humiliating anxiety-fuelled stammer and enough embarrassment to keep him awake at night until 3am replaying it over and over in his head. The only way he could salvage these situations was to instantly switch to offering to speak English if they couldn’t speak German and answering the people’s questions as succinctly as possible. This was immediately followed by returning straight back to his tools and debating the ethics of offering to sign Arthur off as having passed each and every stage of his apprenticeship with flying colours if the Englishman promised to push him in front of the next incoming train just to put him out of his misery and spare him further humiliation. Ludwig had seen more than enough casualties on the tracks to know how to make it look like an accident.
Furrowing his brows at the commotion, Ludwig couldn’t quite work out what the problem was and reaching for his phone to call… was it an ‘owner’ he said? Or director? Whatever his rapid-fire angry threats were, they weren’t having the desired effect because all Vash did was remind him of the hefty fine they were going to receive if he continued his abuse towards any member of staff. Such a measure, however, was exactly what Vash wanted because it meant more revenue and more profit that would eventually trickle down into his and his family’s pockets through their shares in the company.
The other Italian, however, had all but trembled at the mention of a fine and any kind of escalation that might’ve resulted in ‘being locked up and never free to see the light of day again!’
“Is everything okay here?” Ludwig hoped that English could be a middle ground that everyone could agree would better help reach a fair and balanced resoluti-
“Does everything look okay?!” The angry one now set his sights on Ludwig in a way that reminded him of one of Gilbert and his two best friends playing in the back garden as kids and taking it in turns to pretend to be a matador and a bull. Ludwig always just ‘happened’ to play the poor innocent bystander who the bull ‘accidentally’ ran into when he always happened to be holding something; usually something like a blackcurrant Capri-Sun whilst wearing a clean white shirt. Ludwig always ended up wearing the Capri Sun as well.
“No,” Ludwig blinked. “I suppose not, but I- ”
“Thank you, Ludwig,” Vash cut in, this time in German and directly to Ludwig and with a look so sharp it could cut through steel. “But this situation doesn’t require an engineer, so if you would be so kind –”
“What are you saying to him, huh?” The angry Italian demanded Vash’s attention again. “You can’t just talk like we’re not here! If we miss our train because of you two idiots-” Even in broken English, the passenger was just as eager to express his displeasure. Ludwig might not have appreciated the language or the tone, but what he could understand was the urgency of the situation. A train station was no place to act with carelessness, and interactions with trains should never be of a relaxed and laid-back nature while also being so disregarding of schedules. Unless one was driving the trains as such a blasé attitude was apparently that was a job requirement at times – one that broke away at Ludwig’s heart every time he was forced to read the words ‘Delayed’ or ‘Cancelled’ in ominous lettering.
“What is the problem?” Ludwig must have been foolish to truly believe he would get any more than chaos from the brothers who both talked faster than a Ferrari.
Three voices all spoke once.
All in three different languages; Vash in German telling him to stop interfering involved when he was about to issue a fine, the angry Italian in English to ensure Ludwig fully understood how unhappy he was, and other one... he spoke in the smoothest rendition of the language Ludwig had ever heard in his life.
And only one of the three people in front of him slipped a slender, manicured hand over the top of Ludwig’s arm. Along with closeness that came with such a movement, an enchanting scent of expensive aftershave and freshly ground coffee danced around him. Did everyone usually smell that heavenly, or was Ludwig just so used to the smell of diesel and sweat? Or in his brother’s words, ‘the smell of hard work’. Whatever it was, Feliciano still smelled better than Ludwig did himself after a 12-hour shift wearing thick, heavy overalls in the summer.
“Please, can you help us, Signor? I accidentally bought the wrong train ticket because I didn’t read it properly!” The Italian who clung to his arm was... well, to put it simply, he wasn’t like the angry one with slightly darker hair. To put it very un-simply, he was the most beautiful human being Ludwig had ever seen in his life. Which, of course, naturally meant that there was no way in hell Ludwig was even capable of responding in the same fluent Italian he was addressed in. To do so also meant not having one’s breath being taken away – it was too late for that as well.
Reverting to the safety of English, Ludwig cleared his throat and found his voice – but Italian had already found his first. “Wow, aren’t you strong!” Elegant fingers held on just a bit tighter. “You must work really hard with all those big, heavy tools...” Feliciano’s shoulders dropped with a sigh of relief. “Now I know we’re in capable hands!”
Ludwig tried to focus on anything but the pretty young man still holding onto his sleeved arm with his hand at his bicep.
“U-um – d-do you... do you need help getting the correct ticket? If you want, I can -”
“What’re you trying to say, that my brother’s an idiot? That he can’t even buy his own train ticket and make his own way around a train station?” The angry one didn’t look too happy about his companion’s close proximity to Ludwig.
Wait – ‘Brother’?
“No, of course not, I never said –”
“You Germans are always so condescending!”
Before Ludwig could even take a breath to reply and attempt to defuse the situation, the other brother – the one who was still standing rather close, although now slowly removing his arm - jumped in, again, talking only to Ludwig.
“Oh, don’t listen to him,” he waved off. “I, um... well, I was kinda distracted when I was buying the ticket,” even his nervous laugh still had the kind of confidence Ludwig could never dream of having in this situation. “You see, I was wearing these glasses at the time because it was so bright, and what’s the point of having the latest limited edition release Gucci sunglasses if you don’t even wear them?”
Ludwig looked at the large, dark shades resting on the shorter man’s head; they certainly looked new, and most definitely looked expensive. “Aren’t they gorgeous? That’s 18 karat gold on the arms, you know,” he turned his head to give Ludwig a better view of where the arm was tucked behind his ear. A proud smile made the healthy glow in his cheeks look like he was in some kind of spotlight. It must’ve just been the fluorescent lighting above – the cleaners must have recently cleared the cobwebs from the ceiling, which made it look brighter. “I mean, yeah, okay, they might be a bit too dark when I’m inside or when I’m trying to read the train times on my phone, but the numbers all looked close enough to what I thought they said. And then, of course, I had a call from my publicity manager, and then I was hungry, so who can really blame me after all those interruptions?” The way the brunette looked up at him with big eyes and a saddened, hopeful little smile had Ludwig wondering if the guy was actually looking at him. Thankfully, it was only a few seconds lagging until Ludwig realised that the darkened surroundings of the underground would have naturally meant that the Italian’s eyes looked wider and therefore more... puppy-like? In the darkened underground with less light than upstairs, it was simple biology that the other’s pupils would have dilated to let more light in so he could see better. A few more minutes and his eyes would’ve adjusted just like Ludwig’s. Thank goodness Ludwig wasn’t so foolish as to think out loud – how could he forget basic human biology?
“Maybe it was when I accidentally spilled prosecco on my screen and tried to wipe it off and accidentally clicked on buying the wrong ticket?” He pushed a few glossy strands of dark caramel hair behind his ear “I really didn’t mean to, and I’m so, so sorry – I promise!” Another hopeful smile up at Ludwig, and the ability of speech once again evaded him.
How bizarre.
Vash crossed his arms while the other brother held his head in his hand, muttering some kind of prayer to save him from all this. The pair even shared a look that only two people who despised one another but still managed to bond over their mutual dislike for someone else could share. ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend,’ and for the first time in his life, Ludwig was bringing people together.
“So, you... you bought the wrong ticket because you didn’t want to take your sunglasses off when you couldn’t see your phone screen properly?” Confirmation wasn’t essential for anything but his own understanding that the Italian wasn’t joking.
Yes, but if I’d known that I’d made a mistake, then I would’ve corrected it straight away. I didn’t mean to get in trouble, and I had no idea that I bought the wrong ticket. I promise I didn’t do it on purpose, I can’t risk any more fines at this rate! Papa already paid my last speeding fine, but he said one more and doesn’t want me driving the Ferrari again. Which is fine because I still have the Lamborghini, but I love both of them, so how can I decide between –”
“Feliciano! Stop telling this guy your life story and pay the fine! We’re already late now because of you! It’s your fault we’re in this mess, so just get it over with. And stop clinging to that guy’s uniform – it’s filthy!” The other brother batted Feliciano’s hands away as if Ludwig were a dangerous some mangy stray dog. “You wanna waste a two-hundred-euro manicure by getting dirt under your nails? We’ve gotta be at the show in less than an hour!”
‘Feliciano’... Ludwig wanted to ask if his name indeed meant happiness, but it would just have to add to the long list of questions currently forming in his mind to ask Feliciano.
Ludwig turned to Feliciano and noticed the leather laptop bag hanging over his shoulder and sat just over his hip; was it some kind of business meeting they were late for?
“Whoops!” Feliciano laughed at himself the way Ludwig could never do if he’d ever caught himself stepping into someone else’s personal space. “I’m so sorry!” A slight lean into his brother, and Feliciano smiled again at Ludwig, at what, he didn’t know – more so like a smirk, but not in the way Gilbert did, the way that had Ludwig dreading what prank was about to come his way next. “Lovi! Lovi! What if we ask him to –”
“-No!”
“But Lovino!” Feliciano whined his brother’s name like a child whose mother wouldn’t let them buy the newest toy in the shopfront window.
“We don’t have time for this!” Lovino snapped. “This whole thing is your fault, so just concentrate on fixing this fuck up first or you won’t even have a debut to attend.”
Debut?
It wasn’t Ludwig's place to ask personal questions, nor was it his place to start thinking about the personal lives of the passengers he works to transport safely and promptly to the best of his ability. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to.
Before Ludwig could properly think, he’d already offered to help look at their tickets and work out where they had gone wrong.
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to keep you – well, I mean I would like to keep you, but maybe we just start slow, hm? Maybe coffee first?” Unlike Feliciano, Ludwig didn’t see the funny side of the situation. Take it slow? One should never go slow when they’re trying to catch a train – and they certainly didn’t have time to get a coffee right now, even if Ludwig hadn’t already had all of his caffeine allowance for the day yet.
There was that interesting smile again that Ludwig didn’t understand. Feliciano’s perfectly even eyebrows also moved slightly differently too – perhaps he already had an idea about how he needed to fix his ticket dilemma. Be that as it may, Ludwig couldn’t bring himself to leave without being sure that Feliciano wasn’t about to walk onto a train only to end up nowhere near where he needed to be.
“But what about our fine?” Feliciano batted his eyes as he looked up at Ludwig. Perhaps he had something in his eyes. There was an eyewash in the first-aid kit, and Ludwig was a qualified first-aider, so it was just as well.
“You cannot be fined for boarding a train that isn’t included in your ticket while you’re still on the platform.” Ludwig looked over to Vash to find the man glaring straight back at him. “Not before you’ve even boarded the train and therefore even committed the offence.”
“Oh...” Deep mahogany eyes glistened even more when the light hit them. “You really have come to my rescue, haven’t you?”
Ludwig really ought to get that eye wash if Feliciano continued blinking like that.
“If it wasn’t for you, I would’ve lost a lot of money.”
“It was a precautionary measure,” Vash cut in, discreetly hooking his scanner back onto his belt.
“As it was yesterday?” Ludwig inquired. “And twice again the day before that?”
Vash lifted his chin and narrowed his eyes.
“It was a precautionary measure.” Vash maintained. “And this really isn’t your field, Ludwig.”
“Oh?” Feliciano perked up again and caught Ludwig’s eye. “What field do you work in?”
When intervening, Ludwig had the confidence of righteousness on his side and with a bedrock of solid understanding of the roles and responsibilities of all the parties currently involved, there was no denying that Vash had a valid point – but that didn’t mean that Ludwig didn’t, and that he should just look the other way when he saw blatant corruption and abuse of one’s position.
When Feliciano looked at him through long, dark lashes and stood so close, Ludwig could only do all that was asked of him, and right now, that meant answering the question honestly.
“I’m-
“You’re making us late,” Lovino snapped. “That’s what you are!”
“I’m just one of the engineers.” It was only Feliciano who seemed to have heard this, but Ludwig supposed that was all that really mattered anyway, seeing as how he was the one who asked.
“Don’t you ever get tired of telling other people how to do their job? I’m surprised you even have time to do your own without reporting Ivan for a uniform violation and Roderich to Health and Safety.”
The very suggestion that Ludwig’s time management required improvement was not something he was going to take lightly. If Ivan Braginsky and Roderich Edelstein were going to continue being train conductors, then they should be wearing the correct uniform with pride - minus Ivan’s scarf that wasn’t part of the correct uniform, and minus Roderich’s headphones playing whatever musical distraction might prevent him from hearing an important warning or safety announcement. And before anyone could accuse Ludwig of pettiness or jealousy for their position; his own crew could testify that Ludwig didn’t discriminate. Only last week, Ludwig had to give the new apprentice a written warning for not wearing the correct protective footwear onsite after apparently putting on the wrong pair of shoes beside the front door that morning. No, Adidas had not launched a new line of safety footwear fitted with steel toecaps, despite Arthur’s attempt to convince him otherwise.
“Well, your reputation precedes you, and I'm simply doing my job to help maintain a,” Ludwig wasn’t about to be put off by something so juvenile as an eyeroll from Vash, “a safe work environment with fair treatment of others.” For staff and passengers alike. And in this case, it was unfair for Feliciano and his brother to incur a fine for boarding a train that wasn’t validated by their ticket before they had even done so. If and when they were on the train due to arrive on the current platform in less than 3 minutes and 47 seconds, then of course, but not before. “And I don’t ‘tell everyone how to do their job’,” Ludwig pointed out. It wasn’t Vash who needed to be reminded of this, and nor did Ludwig need to convince himself that he wasn’t on some mission of arrogance. So why did he still feel the need to say something in front of Feliciano? “I only tell them how to do it better and correctly,” he tried to explain, not wanting Feliciano to think he was some kind of know-it-all.
The sudden burst of laughter from Feliciano had Ludwig’s heart rate jolted to a new rhythm like a high-voltage shock of electricity. He made a note to submit a request for the earthing and return circuits to be checked on the current track he was working on; if there was a faulty earthing bridge or connector, it could mean that dangerous voltages are transmitted to people or equipment. But right now, Ludwig had an immediate task to complete that demanded his attention.
“Where do you need to go? I’ll make sure you get on the correct train with the best ticket.”
If it was even possible, Feliciano’s eyes brightened even more. “I’m sorry, is the light in your eyes?” Ludwig immediately stepped aside for Feliciano in case a different position would be easier on his eyes. However, the Italian matched steps and followed his movement like a practised dance; quick and light on his feet. Although if he wanted to, Feliciano could have just put his dark shades back on – but seeing as how they were what got him into this mess in the first place, Ludwig wasn’t going to suggest it.
“No, no, I see you perfectly well!”
Ludwig nodded at the Italian’s smiling, tanned face and reminded him that as long as he could properly see the train times and platform numbers, that was all that mattered. Feliciano’s shoulders dropped slightly at this, but Ludwig figured it was due to the relief of knowing that everything would be okay. “I need to get to Hotel Kö59; that’s where we’re staying.”
“Is that where you’re staying?
Flicking between various apps on his phone to demonstrate which stops and routes on the maps would be the most suitable for Feliciano’s journey, Vash cut in when Ludwig started talking about needing to be aware of the 19:27 from Düsseldorf Wehrhan was likely to be effected by industrial action tomorrow until 2100, and a that a divergence could possibly add at least an extra hour onto his journey back to the station closest to his hotel.
“Wait a minute, you can’t just waltz over here and act like you know what you’re talking about! How would you like it if I told you how to replace a wheel or fix a brake?”
“If you could do it better than me, then I’d listen.” Of course he would; the fastest way to complacency and stagnation was the overestimation of one’s abilities and close-mindedness, and Ludwig had never been one to turn down a learning opportunity.
So why didn’t Vash also see it that way?
“Why don’t you go back to tinkering with your trains, Ludwig? Mind your own business for once. I saw you pop your head up like some fluorescent Wack-A-Mole. Again. So I suggest you go back and join the rest of your crew before we test how effective your hard hat really is.”
Ludwig instinctively touched his white Deutsche Bahn-issued hat. His brother always said that even if his hard hat did ever crack, then the amount of hair gel in his hair would still be strong and stiff enough to protect him from the impact, but Ludwig wasn’t going to allow either of them to test their theories.
“Well, I’ve only just replaced the inner suspension last week. It’s valid for another twelve months as per the Arbeitsschutzgesetz, so I have it on good authority that my PPE is fully functional.”
Unless Ludwig’s ears deceived him, he could have sworn he heard Feliciano giggle as Vash scowled and jabbed a finger up towards Ludwig.
“Just stop telling my sister how to arrange her flowers. Lilly knows what she’s doing, and she doesn’t need anyone telling her that one of her window displays has an uneven amount of red and yellow roses.”
Before Ludwig could even attempt an explanation, let alone a defence for the last time he passed the station’s Blumen store and helpfully informed Lilli of the quantity imbalance of her window display, Vash had already stormed off and left the three of them standing there on the platform as the train he almost managed to fine the brothers from boarding arrived.
On time.
With no time to marvel at the rare phenomenon, Ludwig whisked the pair away over towards the stairs.
“Are you sure you don’t mind taking us?” Feliciano heaved a heavy-looking bag over his left shoulder and leaned over from the uneven distribution of weight as he went to extend the handle of a Louis Vuitton suitcase. That position is not good for Feliciano’s spine!
“May I carry your bags?”
Ludwig asked purely out of the best interest of Feliciano’s spinal health. And politeness of course; politeness, duty, and a commitment to efficient customer service. Which made it all the more strange when Ludwig’s stomach fluttered the way it did when Feliciano said yes with a wide, grateful smile. Ludwig had never felt like that when anyone else had accepted his offer to help someone struggling with their luggage.
“Oh, what a gentleman! Lovi, how sweet! See? He’s even nicer than Marco too! Can’t we just ask if -”
But Ludwig’s gloved hands had barely even touched the handle of Feliciano’s bag when it was snatched out of his grasp.
“He’s not a gentleman!” Lovino snapped, eyeing Ludwig like a Thief caught red-handed. “A gentleman wouldn't put his filthy gloves all over nearly two thousand euros' worth of Louis Vuitton!” The Italian's sharp stare was enough to cut through any amount of black axle grease Ludwig had on his gloves – much more effective than any strong alkaline hand soap that was available on the site. Deciding it was better not to argue, and instead apologising for his genuine mistakes, Ludwig thought it more productive to simply move on and continue helping Feliciano – or both of them, rather - to get where they needed to be.
Ludwig was determined not to let his careless blunder discourage him from his initial mission of helping the pair and was not about to be put off by Lovino’s disdain for him and his error. He issued a stammered apology to Feliciano and immediately stuffed his gloves in the pocket of his Strauss Tactical trousers and offered his assistance again. To which Feliciano nodded with a smile, very curious for someone saying that they might miss the train and arrive late to whatever commitment made for the purpose of their journey. His debut was clearly important, and yet, Feliciano seemed more interested in asking Ludwig questions about almost everything unrelated to his journey. The only logical explanation was that Ludwig must have succeeded in reassuring the pair that he would ensure they wouldn't be left lost and stranded.
Setting off again in the echoey tunnel towards the stairs, Ludwig almost didn’t hear the poorly whispered Italian words still a few steps behind him. He may have understood them, but it certainly wasn't his place to respond to something that wasn't directed towards him. Especially not when it might lead to another self-imposed social humiliation as his imperfect proficiency in the language was thrust into the spotlight. And in front of Feliciano.
“Are you crazy? Following some brutish stranger who just manhandled our luggage? My Prada holdall will never be the same again! It’s covered in grease and grime and whatever stuff that janitor had on his gloves!”
Ludwig almost turned around that time, but Feliciano had spoken quicker than Ludwig could even think of a response that wasn’t the same apology he’d already given.
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” he insisted with a reassuring smile in his voice. “Everyone knows that the value of any item depreciates instantly after purchase anyway.”
“It was antique!”
Feliciano’s attempt at appeasement did no more for Ludwig’s defence than it did for Lovino’s temper. And the way Feliciano also snickered at his own words made Ludwig wonder if he was well aware of the fact. “And you don’t know this guy! He isn’t even a train conductor, and you’re blindly following him around in a foreign country – he could be anyone!”
No, Ludwig wasn’t a train conductor, and perhaps that was the most difficult thing Ludwig couldn’t exactly correct him on.
“We’re in Düsseldorf for one week,” Feliciano pointed out, almost sounding tired of his brother’s fretting. “And you only came with me because you insisted on coming with me as if I was venturing off into the depths of hell. We know where we need to go, and the hotel can’t be that far.”
“But- ”
“There’s nothing ‘foreign’ about a place where we already know the guy who sold our lunch – he’s Antonio’s friend, so you know he’s nice!”
“We don’t know him,” Lovino cut in as a few commuters passed them by. “We know him through Antonio.”
“You’re spilling hairs now, Lovi.” Feliciano was hardly fazed by his brother’s irritation as he apologised to a little girl whose balloon he bumped into. “And I’ve already missed the winter Fashion Days this year; I’m not gonna miss the summer ones too just because you don’t want to accept a kind man’s help at the train station.”
Another few steps up the way, and Lovino muttered:
“Fashion week in Milan is better anyway.”
“It’s not ‘better’,” Feliciano countered. “It’s just different. Just because Milan is good, it doesn’t mean that Düsseldorf can’t have its own charm.”
As Ludwig continued up the long staircase just passed halfway and shifted the weight of one of Felicano’s bags on his shoulder, the brothers’ poor excuse for whispering in Italian continued.
“And he’s not a janitor, Lovino. Weren’t you paying attention? He’s an engineer, which means he’s really smart and probably knows what he’s doing at the train station he works at better than you, who hasn’t even set foot in the country before.” Feliciano lost the bitter edge to his words before Ludwig could even wonder if he had imagined them. “And did you see how strong he is?” He lowered his voice to another pathetic level of a whisper. “I bet anything that he’ll look good in –”
“- No way!”
“But –”
“Marco has only just cancelled on us.”
“Yeah, for like, the hundredth time,” Feliciano grumbled. “We need someone!”
“He said he might feel better later and come in for the second half of the show.”
Ludwig could practically hear Feliciano roll his eyes behind him.
“And how many times had he said that?”
“But this guy knows nothing about mod-”
“But look at him!” Feliciano stressed.
Was he talking about… Ludwig? “He’d be perfect! Look! He even walks with purpose – we need that!”
‘Purpose’? He supposed so, but he had places to be – it wouldn’t do him well to dawdle if he didn’t want to answer questions from his superior about why he wasn’t where he should be on time.
“We need someone who walks with purpose and emotion, Feli. Feeling. This is just marching.” Lovino hissed the words as he ran more short of breath through his complaints as they completed the final stretch of stairs. “And how smart can our hero actually be if he didn’t even use the perfectly functional lifts back there and instead decides it’s a better idea to drag us up however many flights of stairs while carrying a load of heavy luggage?”
Ludwig continued to fix his eyes straight ahead with the horizon of Ground Level coming into view.
“Um…”
It was when Feliciano had still tried to defend him did Ludwig turn around just enough to see Feliciano looking back up over at him. Not Lovino’s insults, not his irritation of being ‘dragged all over the station ‘just because you didn’t want to take off his ‘stupid dark sunglasses that’re way too dark to properly read the ticket information’ and the ‘stupid janitor’ was now making his life even harder by ‘running around with his luggage and killing his legs’.
“Um, hello?” Feliciano gave a little wave and pushed a few loose strands of chestnut hair behind his ear and sped up to match Ludwig’s pace. “Your name is Ludwig? Right? I think that’s what I heard the conductor back there call you.”
Ludwig nodded in the affirmative as Feliciano quickened his steps to keep up beside him – there was no time for chitchat if they still wanted to make their train, and even less time for meaningless pleasantries. “Wow, you’re a fast walker!” He still smiled through his laboured breaths. “I mean, obviously you are; you’ve got such long legs! But you must work out too, right?”
Ludwig didn’t quite understand what it was that made him blush about the comment as Feliciano eyed him up and down. Growing up as a kid, he and his brother would mark their height on the wall every year on their birthdays to see how much they had grown over the previous 365 days. Not once did Ludwig ever blush back then, so why now? “Have you ever thought about a career in mod- “
But a voice from behind made its impatience very known and very loud.
“Feli!”
“Right! Sorry!” Feliciano’s hair bounced in the breeze, and with each light-footed step that made Ludwig felt like he had lead in his shoes instead of steel caps. How Feliciano managed to bound up the long staircase which never keeping his eyes in a fixed direction, had Ludwig baffled.
“Do you speak any Italian? My German is bad, but I know how to say, ‘Do you speak Italian?” A quick laugh from Feliciano almost had Ludwig losing his footing – was the tread on his boots wearing down?! They had been absolutely fine all day and were even supposed to be suitable for all weather conditions!
After the final step, the three had finally made it up to the top; not that their journey ended there of course; they still had to make their way down to Platform 8 at Polizeipräsidium, with less than a minute left!
“Wow, I think I’ve ever run up that many stairs before!” Feliciano swallowed, though he still managed to talk while catching his breath. “So how come we didn’t use the lift?” Feliciano asked. “I mean, we barely know each other, and already you’ve got me all hot and sweaty! On second thought, I guess we’re off to a pretty good start, eh?”
They didn’t have the time for Ludwig to spend explaining the biomechanics of physical exertion in thirty-degree heat, nor for him to ask what that had anything to do with how well they knew each other, or why Feliciano seemed to find it so funny.
Ludwig opened his mouth to speak, to say something he wished he could verbalise without bracing himself for Feliciano to laugh at him, but all that came out was… English.
“The lift would have taken too long. Waiting for it to come down and then everyone already in there deciding which floor to go to first was a waste of time.”
“Oh.” Feliciano looked over his shoulder at the sound of the lift approaching where they had already arrived. “See, Lovi?”
Lovino aired the fabric of his loose shirt to try and create a breeze; his flushed face didn’t look impressed as he reached the pair after falling a few paces behind. “Ludwig said the lift would’ve taken too long – so there you go.” A satisfied nod from Feliciano didn’t make his brother any happier. “I said he was smart!”
“I- I just didn’t want to risk the extra time,” Ludwig tried to explain, not wanting to take credit for something he didn’t feel he deserved, especially not if it also felt like a… compliment? Speaking of ‘risking extra time’, the train they needed wasn’t going to wait, and it would be extremely unwise to assume any delays, no matter how probable.
Setting off to Platform 8, Ludwig promptly picked up the heavy bags and cases and led the way and knew exactly where to go and where to look; signs, times, numbers, it was all registered as one.
“Keep up!” He called back. If the pair didn’t maintain the pace through the throngs of people, they were either going to get lost, or worse, miss their train. Thankfully, people seemed to make way for staff, and when they saw Ludwig looking like he was on the way to attend some kind of breakdown emergency or railway issue somewhere on the tracks and walk with intention in his step, most promptly moved out of the way.
Lovino might have mumbled something in disgruntled Italian, but Feliciano quickened his step again and this time held onto his arm. Only this time, he held on tighter.
“I nearly lost you!” His sigh of relief was emphasised by a quick squeeze of the hand. “This is so cool,” Feliciano giggled as he stayed close. “I feel like I’ve got a VIP escort to the front! You’d make a great bodyguard, you know.”
Something told Ludwig just to keep his eyes facing the front if he wanted to maintain concentration.
“If you keep up with me, you won’t have to hold on to me,” Ludwig weaved his way through what looked like what was going to be some kind of family reunion so that he and Feliciano could get to the doors as the train came in.
11:19am. Just on time.
“Maybe next time we’ll have more time to take a nice, slow walk instead.”
Ludwig blinked. And also became very aware that even though they had now stopped as the carriage doors opened, Feliciano was still holding onto him. Why hadn’t he let go? Why hadn’t Ludwig moved him away?
“Next time?”
“I’m in Dusseldorf for the week,” Feliciano said as if it explained anything. “And what am I going to do when I need help with the trains again?”
Ludwig paused to look at the Italian as he unloaded the luggage he had been carrying for them.
“That’s why I showed you the apps and told you where to find the maps in the station.”
Feliciano looked over his shoulder and into where he might be able to get a seat on the train before they all filled up.
“Hm?” He passed Lovino his suitcase as he was already being ushered onto the train.
“C’mon, Feli, I wanna sit down!”
“Oh, yeah, so I get the… ICE train next time? Isn’t that what you said?”
What?! No! That wasn’t what Ludwig had told him at all!
“I said don’t get the ICE trains! They’re the regional ones and want to stay in Düsseldorf.” Ludwig called out as Feliciano moved further and further into the carriage, which was becoming increasingly crowded as more passengers filed in. What if Feliciano accidentally found himself on a train to Berlin? Or Frankfurt? Or all the way down in Munich? And how could something like that not be Ludwig’s fault if he had tried to help him with the trains?
“Okay, just come back to this station when you have time and I’ll explain it again, okay?”
Even amongst all the people now standing between them, Ludwig could just make out Feliciano standing on his tip-toe and waving over some of the heads that prevented him from properly seeing over them as the doors started to close.
“I will! Bye Ludwig! Ciao!” The Italian almost tripped over what looked like Lovino’s suitcase. “Wait, when do you finish work?”
“Six!”
“Huh?”
“Six!”
“What if I can’t find you? What if I get lost again? Wait, I’ll give you my number!”
But it was there was no time as Feliciano went rummaging in his pockets and bags for anything to write on as the doors were almost closed and Lovino tried to tell him something. The only thing Ludwig had time to respond with was:
“Just ask for me at the Information Desk!”
Within seconds, Ludwig was standing there on the platform no longer trying to still be able to see Feliciano as the Italian also craned his neck to look around the other passengers standing in the way and call out over them so that Ludwig didn't miss anything. Many things about that past twenty minutes or so with Feliciano were rather strange, and one of them was that Ludwig could have sworn that he explained everything that Feliciano needed to know about finding his way to and from the hotel and navigating the relevant transport apps perfectly fine. More than sufficient, even.
But if someone needed his help, then how could he say no?
Another strange thing Ludwig noticed was that he could still feel where Feliciano had held onto his arm.