Work Text:
Ludwig had definitely been staring at the man opposite him for far too long now. It took the tall German approximately five minutes to come to this conclusion, and another five for him to actually do anything about it. But, well, he couldn’t help it.
His morning had started ordinarily enough. He woke up, showered and made breakfast, yelled at his brother until Gilbert got up to walk the dogs and left home wearing a clean suit and carrying his briefcase. On the way to the station Ludwig ordered a coffee, as always, and then upon boarding the train placed his briefcase down and pulled out his notebook computer to send some emails regarding a business deal that was to be closed that day.
The fairly productive train ride had been interrupted when a small brunette man had taken the seat opposite Ludwig. It was for this reason that he despised these seats on the trains, but the need for a table was too great for him to take a different seat.
What initially attracted Ludwig’s attention was one haywire curl of dark hair that seemed to defy gravity to curl up on its own. It was irritating to the German, who was obsessed with order. Then once he’d looked, Ludwig had a hard time looking away.
The man wore a bright smile with relatively plain clothes. Tan slacks and a white shirt with tattered black shoes-not that Ludwig craned his neck to see that, not at all. After sitting down he quickly pulled a battered, dog-eared romance novel out of his messenger bag and started thumbing through the pages. Occasionally he’d laugh a little, but for the most part he stayed silent, reading and swinging his legs, which were a few inches shy of the floor.
When a ticket inspector came through the carriage, Ludwig pretended to at least be interested in his work. He quickly handed his ticket to the side, nodding to the greying man who held it back out to him.
“Ticket, sir,” the man said, approaching the brunette opposite Ludwig.
The smaller man looked up from his book to see the inspector waiting kindly.
“Oh, si!” he chirped happily, rummaging through his bag for a few moments. “Where did I-oh!”
His warm eyes widened with realisation as he quickly picked up the novel and pulled his ticket from within the front cover. He smiled sheepishly at the inspector as he gave his ticket, looking up through his eyelashes.
“Sorry.” He laughed nervously.
“No problem,” the official said, handing back his ticket. “Have a nice day.”
Ludwig started thinking about the man’s accent, but he was interrupted as he watched him looking around for his bag. Ludwig noticed it had fallen into the aisle, and cleared his throat to attract the man’s attention.
“It’s over there,” Ludwig said, pointing.
The brunette followed his gaze to find the messenger bag lying in the centre of the aisle. Scrambling to pick it up, he quickly checked nothing had fallen out before placing the ticket inside and putting it back where it belonged.
“Grazie,” he said.
Ah, so he was Italian.
“I’m so forgetful,” he said, still smiling. His tone was almost laughing, bubbling with energy. “Fratellone says I should keep a closer eye on my things!”
Ludwig nodded, as though he wanted the conversation to end. He told himself he did, yet his mind was curious about this small man with the strange curl and bright eyes.
“Fratellone?” Ludwig asked, the word sounding strange in his German accent.
“Oh, it means big brother,” the man quickly explained. “I’m Feliciano, by the way!”
He stuck his hand out enthusiastically, as though he was excited to be getting the chance to shake someone’s hand. Maybe he just didn’t do it that often. Ludwig shook it rather stiffly, ignoring the warm feeling that shot through his arm from the feeling of Feliciano’s calloused hand against his. The name sounded familiar, but Ludwig dismissed the thought. Maybe it was just a common Italian name.
“Ludwig Beilschmidt,” he introduced himself.
“That’s an interesting name!” Feliciano sung happily, legs still swinging.
“It’s German,” Ludwig said, before he could think better of it.
“Wow! I haven’t met many Germans before,” Feliciano said, clapping his hands together.
Unsure of whether or not that was a compliment, Ludwig quickly changed the subject.
“Do you live in the UK?” he asked.
“Uh-huh,” Feliciano replied. “I live in London, but I’ve been visiting my fratello and his husband.”
“It must be expensive, living in the city,” Ludwig said. He himself chose to commute everyday rather than deal with the rent prices. Maybe when it became too difficult he’d buy his own flat. Except then he wouldn’t be able to have dogs, which was the main reason he’d put it off until now. Still, it was likely inevitable, but until then…
He saw no reason to comment on Feliciano’s brother and said brother’s husband. After all, his own brother Gilbert was dating a Canadian man, so he could hardly be said to be too judgemental.
“My nonno Romulus helped me out to buy it. He owns a really big important business!” Feliciano said proudly. “That’s where I work.”
Feliciano. He knew he’d heard that name somewhere. Romulus Vargas, CEO of Vargas trade enterprise, had two grandsons, one of which worked for his company.
“Romulus Vargas?” Ludwig asked hesitantly.
“Oh si, that’s him!” Feliciano said. “Do you know him?”
The Beilschmidt and Vargas corporations had been doing business for generations, not that there was much contact between anybody but the two CEOs, Romulus and Ewald. Old contracts suited everybody involved just fine, so only new ventures really required meetings of officials and higher-ups. The deal being closed that very day, Ludwig realised, involved a merger of sections of both companies so they could work more closely together.
“I’ve done business with him several times, yes,” Ludwig replied.
He would always remember Romulus as an eccentric, loud and…vibrant man. Ludwig had only met him a handful of times, when accompanying his own grandfather Ewald. Though he was the younger of two brothers, Ludwig was poised to take over the family business. Gilbert was more interested in making his own life, not taking one that was handed to him.
“Oh, Beilschmidt!” Feliciano’s eyes took on that same shine they had when he’d been reading his book. ”I know that name!’
“Our grandfather’s companies are very close,” Ludwig said.
“Yes, they are!” Feliciano said happily.
Ludwig couldn’t believe this coincidence. He’d never imagined meeting Romulus’s grandson, let alone by pure chance on a train journey. Although now that they had some common ground to talk about, it seemed they simply wouldn’t stop.
“Are you going to take over the business then, if your brother lives outside of London?”
“No, Lovino’s still going to take over.” Feliciano didn’t seem the least bit bitter about it. “But I’m going to go to all the important meetings for him when he can’t come to London. I guess we’re going to run it together.”
Feliciano seemed excited about the prospect of being trusted with the family company.
“Are you the eldest then? Or are you an only child?” Feliciano asked curiously.
“No, the youngest of two,” Ludwig explained. “But my bruder isn’t interested in running the family business.”
The two ended up talking for the rest of the train ride. Feliciano laughed a lot, Ludwig found himself slipping his laptop away. As the train was arriving, Feliciano checked his watch and his eyes went wide.
“Oh no! I’m going to be late. Ciao, Ludwig!”
Before Ludwig could say another word, Feliciano had slung his bag over his shoulders and darted through the growing gap in the train doors. The German stared after him for a few moments, before moving to gather his own things. The conversation had been quite enjoyable, and Ludwig found himself regretting the fact that it was over.
Looking down to his own briefcase, Ludwig’s eye was caught by something on the floor. He moved around the table, finding Feliciano’s book lying on the ground.
From the way it was worn, Ludwig guessed the book must have been very important to the young Italian. Certainly, it must have at least carried sentimental value.
As he exited the train, Ludwig resolved to find a way to return it to Feliciano. It would be easy enough to give it to Romulus when they met a few days later to discuss the success of their latest venture. Not that Ludwig would be doing much discussing, since Ewald was still in charge.
Beginning to walk towards his work, Ludwig looked at the book in his hands. It wasn’t thick, couldn’t be more than a couple hundred pages. It was titled Ten Ways to Fall in (and Out of) Love and had various authors. It seemed to be a collection of small romance stories.
Ludwig flipped the front cover open as he walked towards the family building, not sure what he was hoping to find.
What he did find was a message scrawled in loopy handwriting that was hard to decipher.
‘If you’re reading this (and you’re not me) you’ve found my book. Please return it, because it’s really important to me!’
Underneath, in the same cursive, was what Ludwig guessed was an identical message in Italian.
‘Se tu leggi questo (e tu non sei me) tu trovi il mio libro. Per favore ritornare, perche è molto importante per me!’
A name, a phone number and an address were also written beneath the multilingual message. The address had been crossed out twice and replaced with a new one , while the phone number looked to be the most recent addition. Pulling out his phone, Ludwig quickly entered the number and wrote a text. After all, Feliciano would likely be worried about his book and it couldn’t hurt to tell him it was safe.
‘It’s Ludwig. I have your book.’
There was no reply for a few minutes, not that Ludwig was checking his phone for one as he walked. Nope. His hand was on the revolving door to the offices as he walked inside when the reply did come. In his haste to withdraw his phone from his pocket, Ludwig almost crashed straight into the door and ended up having to walk around again.
Feeling very foolish, and very grateful that nobody but the receptionist had seen him, a blushing Ludwig entered the elevator and waited until the doors were closed before checking his phone.
‘GRAZIE MILLE! I thought it was gone forever and I was so worried but it’s okay now because it’s safe!’
Ludwig knew enough to know the Italian was thanking him in his own language, and smiled briefly as he imagined Feliciano’s fast, energetic voice speaking the words of the text. Walking out of the elevator, he quickly typed a reply.
‘What do you want me to do with it?’
Ludwig considered offering the option of giving it to Romulus, but decided at the last moment against it.
Luckily, it wasn’t unusual for him to be taken in by his work and so nobody questioned what he was doing on his phone.
‘Did I write my address in there? If I did, could you please bring it to my apartment tonight if it’s not too much trouble and if you don’t mind because it’s a really special book and I really want it back.’
Ludwig considered the possibility. The address wasn’t too far from the offices if he took the underground, and the worst case scenario was he’d get home a little late and have to listen to Gilbert complain about having to make dinner. Besides, the prospect of seeing Feliciano again made something stir within him. He didn’t understand it, and ultimately chose to ignore it, but figured there was no harm in going to the Italian’s apartment to return the book.
‘You did, I’ll bring it round after work. I should be there around five.’
Truth be told, Ludwig really didn’t even need to come to the office every day, let along stay for seven hours until 4. Still, the regimented order helped him to do his job, and so he did. Ludwig knew people saw him as a little heartless and too obsessed with his work, but it couldn’t be helped. That was just who he was.
‘Thankyou so much! I’ll see you at five.’
For the rest of the day, Ludwig found himself unable to focus much on anything besides the tattered romance novel at the bottom of his briefcase. After looking up how to get to Feliciano’s apartment on the subway, he’d attempted work but generally failed. Eventually, when it came to 3 PM, he was so unable to do anything-he’d barely gotten the paperwork for the Beilschmidt-Vargas merger done and sent to his grandfather in time-that he simply gave up.
He’d worked through lunch just to get it done, not that he was particularly looking forward to lunch. A sandwich with leftover wurst wasn’t that bad, it just got old after a while. Still, Gilbert usually cooked most nights and sausages were one of the few things he could make.
Eating the sandwich, Ludwig felt the urge to look through the novel. At first he refrained from doing so, convincing himself that it would be wrong to look through it as it belonged to someone else. Then a voice in the back of his head reminded him that it was just a book, and anybody could get a copy of it so it wasn’t really that bad.
After about half an hour of this conversation taking place in his head, during which time he ate the sandwich, which was bland, and went out to make himself a coffee, Ludwig finally couldn’t resist any more.
Opening the front cover, Ludwig noticed something he’d missed the first time. In the bottom right-hand corner of the page, another name was written. ‘From Heinrich Tutelage’ was printed there in small, neat lettering.
Tutelage…
There’d been a company by that name, Ludwig remembered, though it was before his time. The CEO and his wife had been killed in a car accident. Years later, their only son, the future heir to the company, was murdered during a break in and the company crumbled with nobody else to look to.
But how had Feliciano known Heinrich, the son who was killed?
That seemed exactly the kind of personal thing Ludwig had been trying to avoid finding out by reading the book. Still, he’d started now and it looked as though he couldn’t stop.
He read through a couple of the stories, a few of which made him blush crimson red and thank the person responsible for the lock on his door and frosted glass. Also, he was really thankful for the fact that there were no security cameras in his office. That was definitely a good thing.
Some of the words and sentences were circled in pencil, a rare few in pen, and notes had been scrawled in most of the margins. Ludwig tried not to read them, though his eyes wandered against his will a few times. He would have to take care of that small habit later.
‘She sounds bella!’ one comment read. Another said, ‘I wonder if she’s just lonely…don’t you?’
It was almost as though Feliciano was talking to someone with all of the little notes he’d written. Ludwig pushed those thoughts away. What Feliciano did with his book was his business. Feeling slightly guilty about reading what he had, Ludwig quickly put the book back in his briefcase and looked at the clock. It was five to four, and Ludwig decided that just this once, he’d break his schedule.
He was acutely aware of the strange looks he got as he strode out of his office five minutes early. Pointedly ignoring them, he got in the elevator and headed for the lobby.
It wasn’t until he reached the underground station that he got nervous. Ludwig couldn’t explain it either. He’d never before in his life had the sensation of butterflies in his stomach or the inability to control his breathing properly. He assumed it was something to do with the guilt of reading the book, and not the way Feliciano’s smile had seemed to put the sun to shame it shone that bright or the fact that Ludwig had spent most of the day trying not to think about how Feliciano’s lithe body was rather….
Anyway! The point was, Ludwig had a hard time sitting still on the train. He bounced his knee up and down, smoothed back his already perfectly gelled hair, and started at anything but the empty seat staring back at him.
The train ride seemed to last an eternity yet pass in a matter of seconds. Before he knew it, the station name was being called and he was walking up from the platform more shakily than he could ever remember being before.
Feliciano’s apartment was number 745 in a relatively large building that looked to be on the upper class side of things. That’s certainly what its location said, anyway. Inside, the elevator was in good condition and carried Ludwig smoothly to the seventh floor. It was the second floor from the top.
Ludwig knocked on the hard oak door before quickly fumbling for the book in his briefcase. He didn’t know why he was so nervous. He was just going to hand over the novel and go. That’s all there was to it.
Footsteps were soon heard quickly thumping towards the door. Ludwig righted himself, smoothing his hair one last time as the door was flung open.
“Ludwig, ciao! Buonasera!” Feliciano said.
“I brought your book back,” Ludwig said, holding out the novel a little awkwardly.
“Grazie mille!” Feliciano said, flinging his arms around Ludwig.
The German tensed up, eyes going wide, but it was over before it began and he had no chance to react. Besides, Feliciano was excitedly taking the book back and flipping through the cover. This was it, now he just had to leave.
“Well, I suppose I’ll be-“ Ludwig started.
“Do you want to come inside? I just made coffee, and I think there’s some tiramisu or brioche left but I can’t remember because I might have eaten it this morning.”
“Uh,” Ludwig stuttered for a second. Finally, swallowing thickly, he formed some kind of coherent reply. “I would, um, that would be fine. Yes, thankyou.”
Feliciano’s grin was absolutely blinding, and he practically danced back into the flat, off towards what Ludwig could only assume was the kitchen.
“Could you close the door please, and don’t mind Emilia-that’s my cat-she’s really friendly!”
His voice bounced out towards the front door, and Ludwig shut it as he was asked. Standing inside, he had a quick look around.
The door opened immediately into an open entrance hall that led off into a large living room in one direction and stretched through a wide arch into a hallway in the other. A staircase rose up along the wall beside the door, opposite the living room, to what Ludwig guessed where Feliciano’s quarters. All in all, it was a large apartment.
A black and white cat with one blue and one green eye wound itself around his legs and mewed happily. Ludwig bent down and petted her gently before standing to find Feliciano.
Ludwig followed the hallways past a couple of doors until it opened up on the side to reveal a dining room and kitchen. It was on the corner of the building, and floor-to-ceiling windows lined two of the walls while counters and kitchen appliances took up the others. In the empty space by the windows, where the last dusky sunlight filled the room with a warm orangey haze, was a large, sturdy dining table that could easily fit ten.
Feliciano was at the counter, pouring steaming coffee into two mugs. He already had two plates with tiramisu and brioche on them.
“Just take a seat,” he said, setting the coffee pot down and attempting to pick everything up at once.
Ludwig, sensing disaster, quickly took the plates from him.
“Ve~ thankyou!” Feliciano said. Ludwig quirked an eyebrow at the strange vocal trait, but didn’t comment.
Ludwig took a seat facing the window, and Feliciano quickly slid in opposite him.
The German knew it was none of his business to ask about the book. It would be insensitive and probably be considered prying, and he’d always prided himself on his tactfulness.
Of course, today had been a day of unexpectedness for him, so of course his mouth would betray him before his mind had a chance to catch up.
“If you don’t mind me asking, why is that book so important to you?”
Feliciano didn’t tense or freeze or anything like that which might indicate a nerve had been touched or that he wasn’t comfortable with the subject. His eyes did lose some of their shine as he stared into his mug, and his smile faded a little as he took on a sad composure. Still, he seemed happy enough to talk about it.
“A boy I used to know gave it to me.”
“Heinrich,” Ludwig said without thinking. At a look from Feliciano, he cringed and quickly explained himself. “I saw his name in the front cover.”
He didn’t add that he’d been reading the book at the time, and not looking for a way to contact Feliciano as the Italian was likely thinking.
“Do you know about him?” Feliciano asked, almost hopefully-probably wishing that he wouldn’t have to explain the Tutelage heir’s fate.
“I know what happened to his parents, and to him,” Ludwig said. His voice had become softer, gentler, without him even intending for it to. “How did you know him?”
Feliciano seemed happier to tell this part of the tale. Obviously, his memories with Heinrich were some of his happiest and most treasured.
“My fratello-Lovino-and I never knew our parents. Because nonno Romulus was always so busy, a really nice couple looked after us. Elizabeth and Roderich took in a lot of children here and there, but me and fratellone were the only two to stay for long.”
Here Feliciano turned slightly, to stare over his shoulder and out of the window.
“Heinrich came when I was only nine, and left after a few months. I heard what happened to him almost a year later.”
Ludwig didn’t know how to respond. Here he was, in the kitchen of this man who was practically a stranger and he was hearing one of his most defining stories. It almost seemed too private a memory for him to hear, and yet Feliciano was happy to share it with him.
“Anyway!” Feliciano said, turning back and smiling again. It didn’t look the least bit forced. “Do you like le torte-the cakes?”
Ludwig did indeed enjoy the sweet pastries, and made a point of telling Feliciano so. It led onto him remarking that Feliciano was a far better chef than his brother Gilbert, who could only really make sausages and nothing more.
Feliciano made a face at the mention of sausages and told Ludwig he should learn how to make pasta because it was the best food ever, and he even said he would teach him.
Then Emilia jumped up onto the table, rubbing her black and white tail underneath Feliciano’s chin, who giggled and scooped her up to pat her. Ludwig asked if they were allowed pets in the building, and Feliciano told him they were and there was even a big backyard with a kennel where they could keep dogs when they didn’t want them in the apartment or at night, and asked why.
Ludwig told Feliciano about his three dogs, a German Shepherd, a Golden Retriever and a Doberman, and how he’d put off moving to London because it was near impossible to find a place where he could keep them and he certainly wasn’t going to trust them to Gilbert, who could barely take care of his little yellow bird let along three massive dogs.
They talked about a lot of things, until the coffee and cakes were long gone and the evening was stretching on. Ludwig knew he would feel terrible the next day, and that he had to leave very soon if he wanted to stand any chance of catching the last train.
Feliciano saw him off with another hug-Ludwig figured it was an Italian thing-and a thanks for returning the book.
“We should hang out!” Feliciano declared, as he stood at the door.
“Ja,” Ludwig said, surprising himself. “This was...fun.” Even saying the words felt strange, but it also felt right. After all, he’d enjoyed himself.
“I’ll text you! Or you can text me, whatever you prefer!”
And then Ludwig had laughed, because Feliciano’s eagerness was rather entertaining-not cute, don’t think that!-and promised they would see each other again soon. But then he really had to go because he was running out of time, and Feliciano called ‘ciao’ to him and without even thinking about it Ludwig bade him good night in German and was halfway down in the elevator before he realised it.
Gilbert looked at him funnily when he came home, well past midnight and smiling more than he had the day he’d been named heir to the Beilschmidt Company.
“Where’ve you been?” he asked, staring at him over the back of the couch.
Ludwig realised he didn’t actually have an explanation. The truth didn’t seem like an option, for reasons he couldn’t-or wouldn’t-understand. He quickly settled on a version of the truth, since then he couldn’t be faulted for lying.
“I was returning something to a friend and I ended up staying longer than expected,” Ludwig said.
Gilbert stared at him incredulously.
“Since when did you have friends?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Just because I don’t stay out getting drunk every night doesn’t mean I don’t engage in social activities,” Ludwig said. In reality he was covering, but Gilbert didn’t need to know that.
“Whatever,” the elder Beilschmidt said, getting bored. “You just can’t handle how awesome I am.”
Rolling his eyes and sighing at the familiar ending to the conversation, Ludwig headed upstairs to get ready for bed.
“Are you sleeping there?” he called over his shoulder.
“Ja.”
With no intention of trying to dissuade him, Ludwig made quick work of his preparations and quickly slipped into bed. The familiar softness was enough to lull him to sleep easily, but for some reason the large bed seemed unusually empty.
*
It was a week later when Ludwig received the text. In that week he’d been less focused that he’d ever been, yet somehow more productive and in a far better mood than he normally was. Gilbert had claimed to be creeped out and some of the employees on his floor had given him the odd look, but nobody said anything. Ludwig was suddenly being fairer to his employees-not that he hadn’t been fair before-and he’d started eating out for lunch because he couldn’t stand the taste of leftover wurst anymore.
Still, his fingers itched to check his phone just one more time whenever he thought about it sitting in his pocket or on his desk, because he wanted to make sure he hadn’t missed anything.
When the text came, he was unlocking the phone before it had even stopped vibrating.
‘It’s my lunch break, do you want to go get something to eat?’
Ludwig had been planning to go in a few minutes anyway, and the Vargas building was close by. He thought about where they could go, and quickly came up with a nice little café that served a variety of cuisines where they could go.
‘Ok. Do you know Four Corners Café?’
A few seconds passed before Ludwig’s phone lit up in his hands.
‘Of course, I’ll meet you there. Ciao!’
Ludwig smiled, pocketing the phone and straightening up his desk. He almost grabbed his briefcase out of habit, since he always worked at least a little when he was eating lunch, but quickly remembered himself. He was going to see Feliciano, not to do work. And although he enjoyed his job, Ludwig was looking forward to this more.
A few minutes and a short walk later, Ludwig found himself sitting at a small table with Feliciano. He’d been greeted with a hug, which he’d half-expected but still found embarrassing since they were in public, and had only just gotten over the colour that had risen in his cheeks.
Feliciano quickly ordered pasta, with an enthusiasm that made Ludwig chuckle. He’d been doing that a lot recently. Because he could, Ludwig asked Feliciano what he should have, and the Italian quickly pointed out a pasta dish with sausage in it.
The food was good and the conversation was even better. Ludwig asked about Lovino, Feliciano’s brother. Feliciano told him about how Lovino lived on a large farmhouse with Antonio, because his husband wanted room to grow tomatoes. And then he told Ludwig about how the two of them met, how Antonio took Lovino in when they were children because he’d inherited a big house and he was lonely, and despite the seven year age gap he’d ended up with an eventual boyfriend and now a husband.
Feliciano had asked about Gilbert, and why he didn’t want to be the family heir. Ludwig talked about Gilbert’s guitar, and the gig he played every Saturday at a local bar and the album he was working on. He ended up telling Feliciano about Matthew, Gilbert’s boyfriend, and about how they would probably move in together soon. He didn’t say that Gilbert only stayed with Ludwig instead of Matthew because he was worried his little brother wouldn’t take proper care of himself, but he talked about other things to make up for it.
Feliciano’s lunch hour ended much too quickly. Ludwig accepted an invitation to go to Feliciano’s house the in three days for dinner after work. Feliciano hugged him again, and Ludwig managed to hug him back, just slightly, before he had to leave because his cheeks were most definitely red and it stood out far too much on his pale skin.
*
It had been two months since the fateful train ride that had introduced Ludwig to the man who would slowly change his life.
Ludwig would admit that he was being more sociable, especially with those he worked with. Gilbert still had yet to be introduced to Feliciano, though he’d heard about the Italian about a week after they met. Because Feliciano was Romulus’s grandson, it was easier for Ludwig to explain their…friendship? Relationship? Ludwig didn’t know what it was anymore.
If you were to ask him whether he had romantic feelings for Feliciano, he would vehemently deny it, blush deep scarlet and stutter his way through an excuse to leave before fleeing.
However, if he asked himself, Ludwig would admit that he wasn’t sure. He supposed it hinged on how Feliciano felt about him. They seemed to hug a lot, and he couldn’t tell if it was a cultural thing or a Feliciano thing. There were a lot of Feliciano things, like how he would randomly say ‘ve~,’ or yell ‘pasta,’ for no reason. It was just a vocal quirk. And there was the way he spoke with his hands as well as his words, because there was too much animation in his mind and his conversations to just use his voice.
And if he was honest, Ludwig couldn’t decide whether he was struggling with his feelings because he knew these things, or if he knew all of Feliciano’s habits and quirks because he might have feelings for him.
Of course, the struggle wasn’t made any easier when Feliciano asked Ludwig to move in with him.
They were eating breakfast together-Ludwig had come into town early just for it-and Feliciano had just asked.
“I mean, you don’t have to. But there is a spare bedroom upstairs and I thought that it might be okay because you could keep your dogs and I already make enough food for a lot of people and I know it’s not that tidy but I can work on that and-“
Feliciano stopped, realised he’d been rambling, and stared expectantly at Ludwig for a response.
For a few seconds he said nothing. There really wasn’t a lot to think about, it was an offer that wouldn’t be matched any time soon. A place with no rent with a lot of space for his dogs where he would be able to eat Feliciano’s food every day wasn’t something that came up often after all. Sure, Feliciano wasn’t the tidiest of individuals, but Ludwig could live with that. Maybe. There was no way he was worse than Gilbert.
“I…I would like that,” he said slowly.
Ludwig knew exactly what he was agreeing to. Living with Feliciano, who was bright and loud, would be different. It would take some adjusting. He would be seeing the man every day, and although he had no problem with that it would give Ludwig a lot of time to confront his feelings for the Italian and figure them out.
Feliciano, however, seemed to visibly relax at his words.
“I’m so happy, Ludwig,” he said, beaming at him from across the table. “Because now you won’t have to travel so far and you can have as much food as you want and you can sleep more, which is important, and it’s going to be brilliant!”
Ludwig didn’t have the heart to interrupt Feliciano with serious questions like when or how. For that morning at least, he let Feliciano talk excitedly and he listened, because that was just what he did.
*
When Ludwig realised he’d need a car, his first thought was of Arthur. He occasionally worked with Ludwig on larger projects, and they’d developed something of a friendship. They often went out drinking together when Ludwig had a rare day off, or to celebrate Arthur’s new contracts. He had a car, and already lived in London so it seemed perfect.
Arthur was more than happy to oblige for an old friend. They decided it would be best if he took Ludwig’s things to the apartment first and then came back for Ludwig and the dogs. Ludwig would have gone both times, but Arthur had told him it was pointless and told him to wait at the house.
That gave Gilbert and Ludwig time to talk.
“Hey, uh, Lud?” Gilbert said, looking anywhere but at Ludwig.
“Ja?” he said questioningly.
They stood outside their shared house-about to become Gilbert’s-watching the dogs run around in the yard. It likely wouldn’t be the last time, they’d be back when Ludwig needed someone else to care for them, but they wouldn’t be there for a while. While Ludwig didn’t distrust Feliciano, Gilbert at least had experience with the large dogs.
“With you moving out, the house is going to be pretty damn empty,” Gilbert started. Ludwig had an idea of where this was going.
“And?”
Gilbert took a deep breath. Ludwig knew he was thinking ‘it’s now or never.’
“I want to ask Mattie to move in here with me.”
Ludwig would never understand Gilbert’s need to ask permission. He didn’t understand that for Gilbert, it was a way of making sure he wasn’t abandoning his baby bruder.
“I think that’s a good idea,” Ludwig said. “Someone has to make sure you don’t burn the house down.”
“That was one time!” Gilbert threw his hands out dramatically, but he wasn’t really mad.
Ludwig didn’t say that he knew how bad Matthew’s brother could be, because he wasn’t supposed to hear that conversation and it had honestly been an accident. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Instead, he let Gilbert mumble about it under his breath until he decided to try and hug his brother in an ‘awesome attack’. For once, Ludwig didn’t stop him because he didn’t know when he’d be back at the house again and they were brothers after all. Besides, he’d gotten better at hugging in three months.
There was more hugging when Arthur came back, then the dogs had to be loaded into the car and Arthur didn’t complain about the mess they might make because he was Ludwig’s friend. Gilbert watched them go, leaning casually against the wall until the last second when he couldn’t stop himself from waving anymore. Ludwig leaned out of the window to wave back, and then when they turn the corner he wound up the window and listened to the music Arthur put on even though he didn’t understand rock and roll.
Feliciano was waiting for him outside the apartment, and after they’d both thanked Arthur a lot more that was necessary they took the dogs around to the kennel. Although they initially look vicious, Ludwig knew they’re real softies. The second they saw Feliciano they ran up to him, pouncing him to the ground and licking his face. Feliciano laughed and squirmed until Ludwig sighed and called them back with a sharp whistle. They seemed reluctant to leave the Italian, the smallest giving him a final lick before heading to Ludwig’s side.
The other dogs in the kennel sniffed them cautiously for a few seconds, but by the time everything had been sorted out with the young girl working the kennel the three dogs were running and barking happily among the others.
Feliciano pulled Ludwig by the hand to the elevator, and then took his hand again to pull him to the large oak door the German had become so familiar with.
“This is yours!” he said happily, pulling a key out of his pocket.
Ludwig took it, slipping it into his own pocket and smiling at Feliciano. It felt heavy in his pocket, but in a good way.
The Italian opened the door, showing Ludwig where he’d put his boxes even though Ludwig already knew the apartment inside out. He declined Feliciano’s offer of helping him to unpack, because there were a few things he didn’t exactly want him to find and he also wanted to preserve some form of order in his bedroom.
The room was quite large considering it was a second bedroom. It had a double bed, a wardrobe and a desk as well as an ensuite bathroom. A long window opened out above the desk, overlooking the nearby park and a small part of London.
Honestly, Ludwig thought it was perfect. Not too big to be frivolous but not too small as to be impractical. The bed was comfortable and the view was different but certainly interesting.
All in all, he should be happy there.
*
It started when Ludwig began taking weekends off. At first he’d been sceptical about it, but Feliciano had begged and pleaded because he knew Ludwig didn’t have a lot of time to himself and he just wanted the German to be happy.
So Ludwig had agreed, because he couldn’t refuse Feliciano, especially when he pulled that face with the puppy-dog eyes and his bottom lip stuck out.
But he still woke up early, and he hated lying in bed doing nothing so he would go out to walk the dogs. And although Feliciano hadn’t agreed with waking up early on the weekend, he knew Ludwig had compromised to take time off every week so every Saturday without fail Feliciano was awake in time to go through the park with Ludwig and the three dogs.
It turned out that the park was a dog park, and a lot of walkers and joggers stopped there to let their dogs run around. Saturday mornings were probably the busiest mornings, but Ludwig figured it was just more dogs for the dogs to run around with.
At least, it would be if they ever stopped circling Feliciano and Ludwig endlessly.
Feliciano usually leaned on Ludwig’s side, and the German let him because he knew the Italian wasn’t a morning person and he got up early especially to walk with Ludwig. He always left the Italian with the dogs just long enough to get a coffee and bring it back as thanks.
Ludwig often couldn’t help but think about how much they looked like a couple, with Feliciano leaning against him and the three dogs running circles around them, and the way he always bought the Italian a coffee.
Until one day, as he handed it over and tried very hard not to think about how their fingers brushed together, something happened. Feliciano took the cup, and then stood up as tall as he could on his toes to kiss Ludwig on the cheek. And Ludwig spluttered and turned red, and suddenly their fingers were linked together and when had that happened and-
With a deep breath, Ludwig pushed all of these thoughts aside, stopped listening to his pounding heartbeat, and squeezed the small hand clutched within his own. Feliciano looked down at their interlaced fingers, then smiled up at Ludwig and leaned closer into his side before turning his attention back to the dogs and his coffee.
At least now Ludwig finally knew exactly how Feliciano felt about him. Probably. Still, Feliciano’s hand was as warm and calloused as the first day they’d met and shaken hands, and his lips had been soft and barely there against Ludwig’s cheek yet he could still feel exactly where they’d touched against his skin.
Ludwig decided that maybe having the weekends off wasn’t so bad.
*
When they had their first real kiss, Ludwig was far less surprised. Feliciano always pecked him on the cheek or held his hand, and they hugged every time they saw each other. Then there were the very, very rare times when Ludwig took Feliciano’s hand, or was the one to kiss him on the cheek or on top of his unruly brunette hair.
That was why, as they ate dinner together in the apartment and Ludwig once again complimented Feliciano’s cooking, he almost saw it coming. They were sitting next to each other, because Feliciano liked to nudge Ludwig’s toes with his own and if he was honest the German liked the closeness too, after a lifetime of isolation.
As he turned to Feliciano, he couldn’t even remember why now, Feliciano looked up at him with a shy little smile and quickly surged up to press their lips together.
And oh. Oh! Ludwig almost dropped the fork he’d been holding, and it took him a few seconds to kiss back against the lips moving with his own. Because it was warm and all Ludwig could comprehend was a feeling of sudden completion settling in his chest and the fact that he was kissing Feliciano. And that thought didn’t scare him at all.
Feliciano squeaked in happiness or excitement-Ludwig couldn’t be sure which-and suddenly Ludwig’s own hands were holding a small waist and Feliciano’s were resting on his shoulders.
When they broke apart, Ludwig wasn’t sure what he was expecting. Would things have changed? Was there something he was supposed to say, or to do?
But Feliciano sensed his doubts. Scooting his chair closer, he pressed into Ludwig’s side and picked up his fork to resume eating. They didn’t speak about it, because they didn’t need to. Instead they started talking about other things, and Feliciano slid his sock-clad foot along Ludwig’s, and everything was the same. Except it wasn’t, and that suited both of them just fine.
*
The first time they’d slept together they’d literally done just that. They’d been living together three months, and winter was on its way to settling over London. Ludwig heard soft footfall in the upstairs corridor, occasionally drowned out by giant claps of thunder that rattled the windows. He assumed the latter sound had been what woke him.
A few moments later, his bedroom door was thrown open by a distraught Italian, who stood there in nothing but his boxers-not that Ludwig was wearing much more-and looked towards him tearfully.
“Ludwig!” he cried loudly.
With a sigh, Ludwig got out of bed and walked over to the smaller man. He scooped Feliciano up with ease and closed the door with his shoulder before carrying him back towards the bed.
Feliciano buried his head against Ludwig’s chest at another burst of thunder, and whimpered as he clung tightly to him. Ludwig slid both of them under the covers, lying them down on their sides.
He started to slowly stroke Feliciano’s hair, holding him tightly with his other hand. Feliciano didn’t respond, or do anything really besides let out the occasional muffled sob or choked whimper.
Ludwig held Feliciano until he fell asleep. It took a while, but eventually the body in his arms went limp and soft sniffling snores filled the space between them.
With a gentle kiss to his forehead and one last stroke of his hair, Ludwig allowed himself to sleep too, still holding Feliciano close.
After that, Ludwig rarely woke to find himself alone.
*
Ludwig didn’t really know when it had happened. He’d simply woken up one morning, when Feliciano had been there like he was more often than not, and the thought had simply popped into his head.
‘I love him.’
It scared him. Only for a few seconds, but the fear was still there as his heartbeat sped up and the thought echoed inside his head, getting louder and louder each time he heard it. Then he’d shaken his head, looked down at Feliciano’s sleeping form, and kissed his hair. This was the man he was supposed to fall in love with.
He didn’t say it right away, but he thought it. It was there when he watched Feliciano painting or drawing, in the way his hands moved so easily over the paper and canvas to spread colour and life. Feliciano’s paintings were always so dynamic, in the way that Feliciano himself was so it made sense but they were still so incredibly beautiful. Although, Ludwig would often think with a blush, not so beautiful as Feliciano himself.
But everything seemed to be so fluid with Feliciano. The way he moved with his whole body, in every action from cooking pasta to playing with the dogs. He never stopped moving long enough to be still, and Ludwig knew that was half the reason he loved him. And there were a thousand other reasons that filled his mind and his heart, like the way Feliciano would always sneak into the German’s bed late at night even though it was smaller than his own. There was the fact that he never let Ludwig leave home without a hug and a kiss-sometimes far more passionately than was proper for the hallway-and the endearing way he would fall asleep waiting on the couch on the very few days Ludwig had to work late.
And the unconditional trust he seemed to have in Ludwig was the most treasured thing the German had ever possessed. It was there, in the way that Feliciano jumped into Ludwig and never once doubted he’d catch him and in the way he always made Ludwig lunch and showed the blonde every single picture he drew. There was so much trust when Feliciano curled around Ludwig, on the couch or in bed, and rested his head down on a pale shoulder or chest and fell asleep almost immediately.
Feliciano sensed the trust too. He saw how Ludwig never ignored him, even when he was working or reading, and how he would always obligingly drag a hand through Feliciano’s hair and hold him as close as possible even when he was busy.
And there was the devotion and loyalty from the German, who had almost certainly never had this kind of relationship before but tried his absolute hardest. He was never late when they met up for lunch or after work, which they did often. He only asked Feliciano to try and be tidy when he absolutely had to, which wasn’t that often and Feliciano knew he would never, ever do anything that might ruin what they had.
And their relationship wasn’t fast or passionate, like Feliciano knew Antonio and Lovino’s was. Instead it had its own quiet intensity that ran beneath Feliciano’s skin and got warmer every time they touched. When they kissed it threatened to explode from his heart because he was so overwhelmed by the absolute love and loyalty and devotion they had for one another.
They were perfect together, even though Feliciano thought Ludwig worked too much and Ludwig cringed every time Feliciano dropped something on the floor. They were together, and they were trying, which was the important thing.
*
Their first time was…well, a first. For both of them. For Ludwig, who’d never loved anyone else and for Feliciano, who’d spent years wasting himself away after Heinrich, there had never been another chance for this.
They’d only ever really kissed before, and even then it hadn’t been like this. With Feliciano sitting on the dining table and Ludwig between his legs and kissing him. With their tongues tangled together and their teeth occasionally clicking because Ludwig had never even imagined himself doing this.
But it was getting harder to focus on not doing that with Feliciano’s hands sliding up from his waist, underneath his shirt-when had that come untucked?-and sending sparks dancing beneath his skin everywhere they touched.
And then he was pulling Feliciano forward, and the Italian was moaning and wrapping his legs around Ludwig’s waist and he could definitely feel the effect he was having on Feliciano. But the fleeting moment of embarrassment was gone because then Feliciano ground down on him, and Ludwig moaned and bucked his hips up into Feliciano because he couldn’t stop himself and all he really wanted at that moment was to bend Feliciano over the table and fuck him senseless.
He didn’t do that. Ludwig picked up Feliciano, the smaller man’s legs still around his waist, and carried him upstairs to Feliciano’s bedroom. And Feliciano for his part did everything he could to distract him, by sucking and biting on Ludwig’s neck and forcing himself downwards. But he had to stop because they almost fell down the stairs when Ludwig’s knees came dangerously close to buckling, so Feliciano bit down one more time and joined their lips together once more, because that was safer for now.
Then they were in the bedroom, and how their clothes came off was a mystery to both of them but they were naked by the time they hit the sheets. And Feliciano twisted and stretched to reach the top drawer beside the bed and Ludwig had to lean over to help him pull out a condom and lube, which somehow made it feel a lot more real and far more intimidating than it had been downstairs in the kitchen.
Feliciano guided Ludwig’s hand back to prepare him, and he knew Feliciano had never done this before but somehow he was so much more confident than Ludwig was.
And his hand twisted in the sheets and Ludwig stretched him, and he pressed back onto the second finger and whimpered at the third. Ludwig kissed him in silent apology, and waited until Feliciano helped him roll the condom on and nodded that he was ready before flipping the Italian over and lining himself up.
Feliciano’s toes curled at the feeling of Ludwig stretching him, and the preparation hadn’t been enough but it was never going to be because the German was big.
And Ludwig hated that he caused Feliciano so much pain, so he reached up and gently tugged on his curl, hoping it would distract him. He knew it did when Feliciano let out the loudest moan Ludwig had ever heard and instantly relaxed around him.
Ludwig slowly rocked his hips experimentally, trying not to hurt Feliciano. The Italian moaned and instantly pressed back against him, and Ludwig started moving faster, pulling out and thrusting back in as he created a rhythm. He found that spot within Feliciano that made him moan and writhe, and changed the angle of his movements to hit it every single time. Feliciano met every thrust, filling the room with breathy moans and gasps as his curl was tugged. He practically screamed as Ludwig wrapped a beefy hand around his length, pumping it in time with his thrusts.
Feliciano didn’t last long, releasing the pleasure built up in his stomach onto the bed as he came with a sharp gasp. At the feeling of Feliciano tensing around him, Ludwig reached his end with a deep groan and buried himself within Feliciano.
They collapsed on the bed, Ludwig pulling out and rolling them onto their sides. He quickly pulled off the condom and tied it. Standing heavily, he went into the bathroom, throwing it into the bin and returning with a damp cloth to clean them both up.
Feliciano hummed happily as Ludwig moved him. In a gesture that was very unlike him, Ludwig threw the cloth in the direction of the bathroom when he was done and pulled the sheets over both of them. Feliciano curled around him, and Ludwig held him.
“Ich liebe dich, Feli,” Ludwig said, blushing even in the darkness. He didn’t even know if Feliciano would understand.
“Ti amo, Luddy,” Feliciano replied, and Ludwig knew they both understood.
They were tired and sated, and sleep claimed both of them soon enough. But they were also warm and happy and more than content, in the big bed that seemed too small to contain all of the love they held for each other.