Chapter Text
No, dammit. No. Why had this stupid e-mail been sent to him? Didn't that fucker know that complaints like these went to customer service, not to accounting? Lovino's job was already stressful enough. On top of everything else, he didn't need to deal with idiots who were too dumb to read the instructions or use common sense.
With restraint that he considered worthy of canonisation, he forwarded the e-mail to the correct department. Goddammit, it was times like this that he loathed his life even more than usual. He hadn't achieved anything he considered valuable. He was headed towards disaster and unhappiness, and he had no idea how to change the course.
All his life, he had wanted only one thing – to buy a farm and make his living by growing wine or vegetables or oranges. His family was already in the winemaking business and owned a small brewery that had been with them for centuries, so it would have been a natural way to keep the tradition alive and expand a little.
However, there was another thing that had stayed the same in his family for generations. Namely, their inability to handle money. They had been in debt even back when his grandfather had been little and had stayed in business largely because they were so well-liked in their community and because they always managed to pay somehow, even if they at that point had already acquired new debts. But times were changing, and their loans were no longer handled by the local banker who had grown up with his grandfather. Their village didn't even have a bank anymore, and the faceless executives in the city didn't care about anything but numbers and deadlines.
And so Lovino had shelved his dreams of digging his hands into soil and napping in the shade of his orange trees. He had swallowed his distaste for figures and papers and got himself a degree in accountancy – and paid for it with a loan, as was the proud family tradition. There was no work for him in the village, so he had moved to Naples and drifted from one shitty, underpaid part-time job to another until he had finally had enough. He hadn't given up so much just so that he could waste his life and barely be able to afford rent and food.
That realisation had led to what Lovino considered the greatest sacrifice of his life. With lots of praying, swearing and gnashing of teeth, he had managed to land an internship in a large electronics company in Frankfurt. A few years later, he was still on that path, though now as a full-time employee.
He hated Germany. He hated the food, he hated the people, he hated the weather, he hated the language, he hated the architecture, he hated the crap on TV, and he especially hated the fact that he couldn't see any way out of the situation. There was no future for him in Italy, but suffering on this deepest level of hell was the only way he could contribute to paying off the family debt before the bank came and took away their house and land.
And that was why he gritted his teeth until his jaw hurt, kept his mouth shut and did his work as best as he could. It was an international company, so it didn't matter that his German was only passable. Not that he even wanted to become fluent in a language that sounded like a cat coughing up a furball.
With a sigh, Lovino turned his attention back to the messages that he was supposed to be reading. He could already feel a pounding headache forming behind his eyes, and the day had barely started. He'd consider it a miracle if he was still alive by the end of it.
There was one additional problem in his life that he had been doing his best to ignore. He hadn't got laid ever since he had arrived in the damn country. He was pretty sure he'd have an allergic reaction if he ever touched a German dick, and the women weren't much more appealing, so he had kept himself satisfied with his hands and a few toys that he almost hadn't had the nerve to order. But it wasn't working anymore, and he could feel himself grow crankier and crankier every day.
He needed sex. Soon. And he needed it in a way that wouldn't require him to get to know the other person since he had no interest in a relationship with anyone who couldn't tell pecorino apart from ricotta. And the solution was obvious – he'd just hire a prostitute to take care of his needs. Preferably a man because spending time with women was something he associated with fun. If he only wanted sex, it had to be a man.
It had taken him two weeks of internal debating and alternating between feeling excited and disgusted at himself before he had made this decision. He hadn't bought sex before, so he wasn't even sure how to go about it, except that he'd rather die than go to a brothel.
That left him with the Internet. Lovino took a careful glance around the office. He knew it was crazy to even think about browsing such sites at work, but he just didn't have the energy to continue with the e-mails. He deserved a break. The promise of finally getting some stress relief would motivate him to work harder. This was totally justified. His workspace was in a corner, so nobody would see what he was doing.
He began to look for male prostitutes in Frankfurt, but at first the only results he got were news articles and interviews. After a while, he found his way to a fetish site with links to more specific pages. It was then that he realised how many choices he had – if he wanted more than just regular sex, he could get it. Bondage, cross-dressing, spanking, golden showers, it was all there. He didn't even know what all the options meant!
Finally, something caught his eye. There was a guy who advertised a maid roleplay scenario. Roleplay wasn't really Lovino's thing – he'd never done anything like that before – but the thought of pushing someone around and making him do chores all over his messy apartment before they had sex was arousing. God, it would be so nice to pretend he had control over something in his life.
He took out his phone and started to add the man's contact information to his address book. With a snort, he put “cleaning service” as the name, just in case anyone would ever go poking around his phone.
“Hey, Lovino!”
Lovino let out a surprised yelp, and the phone slipped from his hands and fell to the floor. He grabbed the nearest binder on his desk and shoved it against the computer screen in an attempt to hide the obscene display on it.
The person who had surprised him was Antonio, one of the few people in Germany that Lovino considered a friend, and that was largely because he wasn't German. It was thanks to him that Lovino had got his internship at the company those years before. They had got to know each other in Naples when Antonio had been an exchange student at Lovino's university. He had graduated earlier, and once he had heard of Lovino's predicament, he had recommended him to the head of his department.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Lovino blurted out.
“Just came to say hello. You've been staring at your computer so intently for the past half an hour that I figured you need a break. What are you doing?”
“Nothing! Go away!”
“But I'm sure you were looking at some web page. I saw a man in a frilly dress.” Antonio frowned as he thought it over. His face lightened up in understanding, making Lovino's life flash before his eyes.
“Oh! I get it!” Antonio blurted out.
“So? It's... It's none of your fucking business! I swear, if you tell anyone –”
Antonio laughed and patted Lovino's shoulder. “You don't have to be embarrassed! Everybody uses those services sometimes. Especially if you live alone because it can be hard to get everything done by yourself. But listen, I could really recommend –”
“No, don't say a thing!”
“But he's really good!”
“I don't care! And whoops, look at the time! Lunch break!” Lovino pushed the button on his computer to turn it off and hurried away from his desk and towards the elevator.
“But it's only nine o'clock!”
“I'm taking it early, bastard! I'm hungry!”
In hindsight, there were probably better ways he could have dealt with the situation, but Lovino's brain had fried the moment he had realised that Antonio had been about to recommend a prostitute to him. It was embarrassing, like getting kinky sex tips from a relative – and his grandfather being the way he was, Lovino had more than enough experience with that.
He had no idea how he could face Antonio again when he came back. He probably thought he was a sick pervert. And maybe he was. God, maid roleplay? What had he been thinking? It was bad enough he was considering paying for sex in the first place; there was no need to make it so dirty as well.
When Lovino returned to the office some half an hour later, Antonio was back in front of his own desk. He lifted a hand in greeting and then returned to his work, but Lovino considered it only a momentary relief. Antonio never knew when to let an uncomfortable matter drop.
His phone was on his desk, so he figured Antonio had picked it up from the floor. He tried to avoid the other's glance as he turned his computer back on and tried to resume his work, but his eyes kept drifting over to Antonio. How was he supposed to focus if he didn't first find out if the other was bothered by his discovery?
To Lovino's dismay, Antonio smiled at him whenever their eyes met. One time he even gave him a thumbs-up and an encouraging grin and then made a gesture as if he was using his phone. Fuck it. The idiot would no doubt keep asking when Lovino had called the prostitute and would want to know how it went.
It was all because of this shitty country, Lovino decided. If he didn't have to live and work in Germany, he wouldn't be so desperate for a fuck, and then he wouldn't have to resort to such extreme measures and embarrass himself in front of one of his only friends. Fuck Germany.
When he finally made it home, he spent a long time staring at his phone and wondering if he had the guts to go through with it. Then he decided that he had already suffered so much that he might just as well reap the rewards.
***
And those better things involved starting up his own cleaning business. He already did most of the cleaning at Ludwig's apartment when the other was at work, so he had got a lot of practice. It wasn't what he had wanted to do with his life, but it was relaxing work that always left him feeling accomplished. And he figured that if he just kept doing it, his business would eventually grow until he'd just be the manager and lead his troops of elite cleaners as they took over the sanitation business.
He had used the remains of his last three paychecks from McDonalds and borrowed some money from Ludwig to be able to afford some high quality supplies and an old van he needed to transport everything around the city. He was sure this was going to be his lucky break, the way to turn his life around.
The only element that was still missing from his success story was customers. He had asked his friends and family to recommend him to people they knew, but so far the response hadn't been very enthusiastic. He had had some jobs, but if things didn't pick up soon, he'd never make enough money to be able to move out and let Ludwig have his living room back.
At the moment, he was making mashed potatoes in the kitchen. He liked to cook for Ludwig since it made him feel more like a productive member of the household and less like a leech. He also wanted to make sure his kid brother didn't forget to eat since he was always so busy with work.
His process was interrupted when his work phone started ringing. He wiped his hands on a towel and answered.
“Gilbert's Awesome Cleaning Service! How can I help you?”
“What the fuck kind of name is that?”
“What's wrong with it?”
“It's dumb!”
“It says exactly what I'm all about! If you have a problem with it, why did you call me?”
There was some unintelligible muttering from the other end of the line, and then the same voice continued, much tamer and quieter. “Right, so... I... I want to buy your services! But you had better be more competent than that lame name suggests!”
Gilbert suppressed the desire to just snap at him. He wasn't exactly in the position to get rude with potential customers, even if they deserved it. “Yeah, sure, no problem. What is it exactly that you need?”
“Well... D-dammit, isn't it obvious?”
“Yeah, but I need some details to –”
“Just drag your ass over here! I'm not telling you on the damn phone! Someone could be listening!”
Gilbert wondered which of his friends he had to thank for this nutcase. The guy's German was mangled to the point that he had trouble understanding him, which suggested Antonio since he had a lot of foreign co-workers. Maybe he was only acting like that because he was nervous about speaking another language on the phone.
“Right, so I guess I'll pack up all my equipment, and you decide when I get there?” he suggested.
“Yeah, whatever.”
“So, when do you want me?”
“Uh... Are you... Do you have time on Friday evening?”
“Let me check,” Gilbert said and took a moment off the phone to give the impression that he was looking at his calendar. Of course he had time on Friday. He had time all damn week, but he didn't want to make his new customer think he had just called some loser service that couldn't get work. “Yeah, how's at five? I've got a good spot free then.”
“What about later? I get off work at five, so I can't make it.”
Gilbert was a little surprised that the guy wanted to be there when he worked. Usually, his customers left a spare key with the neighbours so that he could go in and work his magic without bothering anyone. But maybe this guy was one of those pedantic types who wanted everything done to perfection. Maybe he thought Gilbert couldn't do his job without supervision or that he'd steal something.
“Seven?” he suggested, trying to keep the irritation absent from his voice.
“Yeah, that's fine. Uh... how long do you think it's going to take?”
“I don't know. Depends on how much you need me.”
“It's... pretty bad,” the guy said in a strained voice.
“Sure, okay! Let's make it very thorough, then. No problem. And hey, what was your name again?”
“I'm Lovino Vargas. And don't you dare go telling it to anyone!”
Gilbert rolled his eyes. “Don't worry, you dirty secrets are safe with me. And I'll need your address, too.”
Once all the details had been agreed on, Lovino hung up on him, reminding him that everything was confidential and that he had better not do a shitty job. Gilbert almost wanted to call back and cancel the whole thing since he hated it when people treated him like he was a worthless dumbass, but he really, really needed the money. He'd swallow his pride for now and then get back at everyone later when he was a rich cleaning mogul.
He got back to the potatoes, and after a while his irritation faded away and was replaced by delight over the fact that when Ludwig came home, he could tell him that he had found some more work.