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A Summer in Italy

Summary:

Ludwig Beilschmidt just graduated high school; now, he gets to spend the summer in Italy, where his brother, Gilbert, is attending college. For Ludwig, that means no work and no friends. He anticipates the worst.

However, his brother introduces him to four new people: Francis, Antonio, Lovino, and, most striking, Feliciano.

Maybe two months in Italy won't be as bad as he fears. Maybe they will. But Ludwig? Ludwig is prepared to find out.

Notes:

Hi! Please enjoy this story, and if you do, leave kudos or a comment! :D

The rest of the story will be up soon, as I didn't want to post everything in one big, hardly navigable chunk of text. If there are any typos, please let me know. Also, if your computer or phone doesn't register, the symbol next to Feli's name in the contact is a heart.

Thanks!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Part One

Chapter Text

Vacation was supposed to be fun… right?

A day in, and Ludwig was having anything but fun. He had just graduated high school the week before, and now he was getting shipped off to Italy for two months. That on its own was wonderful - who wouldn’t be giddy with excitement for a two month trip to Italy? - but it was not a vacation in itself.

No, Ludwig was going out to stay with his elder brother, Gilbert, for the summer. Two years before, Gilbert had graduated and high tailed it out of Germany with the money from his part time job, finding a small but reputable trade school on the Italian countryside. He had lived there for the past two years, juggling school and work, and using his savings from high school when work didn’t suffice. Ludwig was not going to Italy for some fancy graduation trip; he was going to Italy because he had no idea what he wanted to do with his life and his father thought that, if he saw Gilbert working hard at the trade school, he might find something he wanted to pursue.

The bumpy train chugged along the railroad for hours upon end. Ludwig had decided to put in his headphones and ditch any productive work about a half an hour back. After all, he would have all summer to work on other things. As the scenery ceased to be Switzerland and became Italy, Ludwig knew he was getting close.

The trade school was in the northern portion of Italy, hours away from any big city with sightseeing. It was a shame. At least the rest of Italy was beautiful. Ludwig sighed and closed his eyes for several seconds before reopening them with a tired forcefulness.

He wanted to lean his head against the window, but the ride was far too filled with vibration for that to be comfortable. Ludwig leaned his head against the headrest cushion, with absorbed all the bouncing of the train.

He watched the background fade into a long blur.

It wasn’t long before the train was pulling into his station. In fact, Ludwig was the only one getting off. He retrieved his bags and easily pulled them up in a curl as he made his way through the thin aisle to the exit. He gave a low thank you in Italian to the staff. Italian wasn’t his strongest language, nowhere near it, but he knew enough pleasantries to make it through with relative politeness.

There were few people lingering in the station. It was obvious there were a couple other railroad tracks, so there must’ve been other trains running, but Ludwig guessed three at most. This wasn’t a huge town so the need for inter and intra city transportation was small.

That being said, it was easy to find Gilbert waiting for him. He wore a black button up shirt with the top one popped open and blue jeans. His style had, admittedly, gotten cleaned up in Italy. He always wore t-shirts and hoodies before, but had shifted to nicer clothes. His hair was still the same platinum blonde mop it always had been; he did push it back more because Italy’s climate was warmer. Neither of these were revelations to Ludwig. Though he had only seen Gilbert on his Christmas trips home since he left, they video chatted a couple times a month.

Who else was Ludwig supposed to talk to?

Gilbert looked up as the train let his brother off and scampered forwards to throw his arms around the taller man.

“Luddy!” he shouted.

“Hey,” Ludwig responded, wrapping his free arm around Gilbert.

“I’m so excited that you’re here! I need to make sure that my brother doesn’t start out his adult life making bad decisions, eh?” Gilbert pulled back, laughing. “We’re going to take the bus back to my place. I got you a pass for the next two months with unlimited ons and offs so don’t be afraid to use it.” He shoved a piece of paper into Ludwig’s empty hand. They turned to walk outside the station. “Most people take the bus or walk; I guessed you wouldn’t want to walk back to my apartment with your bags and stuff.”

Ludwig shrugged, but thanked him nonetheless. They caught the next bus, which was arriving just as they walked outside, and rode it to Gilbert’s apartment.

The apartment was a two bedroom. For the past two years, Gilbert had been roommates with a guy a few years older than himself, signing the lease to rent and everything. When they guy graduated, Gilbert took over the apartment by himself. When Ludwig left in the fall, he would find some incoming student to share the rent. Ludwig was a little worried about making Gilbert cover the entire rent himself, but Gilbert insisted he shouldn’t worry.

Walking in, the apartment seemed less intense than Gilbert’s personality. There was some furniture, definitely not all of which Gilbert had moved in with, but there were obvious holes where his old roommate took his belongings out. The spare bedroom had a twin bed and a dresser, both of which were small and banged up. Ludwig didn’t mind.

His brother’s room was… definitely a reflection of his personality. All his belongings were strewn there, though tidy, leaving the shared spaces bare. Posters clung to the wall and books were piled on the desk. A small window in the corner let in light from the setting sun; to the right, a line of photos extended parallel to it. Ludwig barely got a glance when Gilbert shuffled him out.

“Same rules apply here as they did at home. My room. No touchie.”

Ludwig grunted, but agreed. He didn’t want to upset his brother, especially so soon in the trip.

The sun was dipping below the horizon, so Gilbert insisted that Ludwig unpack and get settled in. They could hang out tomorrow before Gilbert had work and some friends to meet. He invited Ludwig to join, but he declined the offer, retiring to his room for the evening.

Few decorations had made the cut into his bag for the trip. Most of what he brought included clothes, books, and tech. Unlike Gilbert, he didn’t have any pictures to put on his wall, and he had left his posters at his home in Germany. He sorted his folded clothes into appropriate drawers and hung up the few shirts he had in the little closet. His pillow was tossed onto the bed. He put his books on top of the dresser and plugged his phone in before he went to sleep.

The mattress was obviously worn; he could assume that it was the old roommate’s, left behind for the next person while he found a better and probably bigger bed. The sheets and pillow were good enough in conjunction with Ludwig’s pillow, and he fell asleep just fine.


 

Ludwig awoke the next morning as the sun rose. Gilbert lured him to the living room with the scent of strong coffee and bacon. They shared breakfast together before Gilbert headed out for work at noon.

“There’s wifi, and the password is on the fridge. Eat whatever. I’m working until seven and then going out with some friends; are you sure you don’t want to join? You’ll have to meet them eventually. Most of them speak English, and one even knows German.” Ludwig dismissed him again. “Alright, alright. Like I said, stay out of my room, but you can do basically whatever else.” He winked, grabbing his backpack. “I’ll see you tonight. Let me know if you decide to leave or anything. And that reminds me! There’s a spare key on the counter for you! Auf wiedersehen!”

There wasn’t much to explore in the apartment. Other than Gilbert’s room, of course, but Ludwig was a good house guest following the rules. There was always that little brother part of him that wanted to snoop around in there - after all, why wouldn’t he be allowed in if there were no secrets in there? - but he was older now and more mature than that.

Since Gilbert’s moving out, their relationship had grown more formal and mature, especially on Ludwig’s behalf. They didn’t have petty fights or wrestle each other when they were together. Gilbert had always had a watchful eye on his brother, but it grew both stronger and more relaxed the older Ludwig became.

There wasn’t much to do, so Ludwig picked up one of his books and began to read.

Part of him almost regretted not going out with Gilbert’s friends. Almost. He was content here, albeit bored. They were a bunch of Italian strangers. Furthermore, they were his brother’s friends. He’d be such an awkward outsider - more awkward than he normally was.

If roles were reversed, Gilbert would have not only gone out, but been on the phone with his friends back home all night after getting home. Not Ludwig though. He didn’t have enough friends for that. Or, well, really any, for that matter.

No, this was not going to be a vacation at all. He was away from home and anyone he might be able to hang out with. Though he was with Gilbert, his brother would be hanging out with all his friends so often that it would just be a reminder of Ludwig’s lack of friends. Even if he did go out with them, he’d just be embarrassed by either his brother, poor de facto language skills, or his general bad social skills. He couldn’t even work because he didn’t know enough Italian to pick up a part time job.

There was a reason he brought so many books.

Ludwig had just turned the light off to go to bed when he heard the front door open and hi brother’s loud voice echoing down the hall.

“Ludwig!”

He traced his two steps back to the door and pulled it open in his boxer shorts and a muscle tank, expecting only Gilbert to be in the living room. To his surprise, there were three others with him.

“Du bist-” he began in German before seeing the others. “Oh, hi.”

He lingered in the doorway, looking at his brother’s friends. The first man had shoulder length blonde hair and wore a blue hoodie. The second wore a similar outfit to his brother and had short, messy brunette hair. The third was the shortest of the group, with longer hair than the second but shorter than the first. The first two men talked quickly, slipping between English, Italian, and a couple other words of whatever was convenient. Only the third guy acknowledge Ludwig at first, lifting his hand and smiling.

“Hi,” Ludwig repeated, unsure of what to say.

“Oh, go back to bed, Luddy,” Gilbert said. “Do you mind if my friends and I hang here for a couple minutes? I’ve got beer, and they don’t want to pay for alcohol.”

Ludwig shrugged, slipping back into his room. It was still dark as he got under the sheets, but he could hear them talking. Snippets of conversation. The loud parts, mostly. They, as the two men had been doing before, shuffled between Italian and English, so Ludwig picked up pieces here and there.

“Mio fratello!” exclaimed a voice, not Gilbert’s.

“Yes, tuo fratello,” drawled another.

“You’re cute, Feli. Maybe you need a scandalous sex life to shock them back.”

There was some laughing.

Ludwig pushed his face into the pillow and hoped to fall asleep. He didn’t fall asleep for another two hours.


A couple days passed. They were similar to the beginning of the stay. Ludwig and Gilbert spent part of the day together, and when Gilbert headed off to his part time job, Ludwig stayed at the apartment to read and watch video and organize the cabinet for the tenth time this week. Gilbert did ask him to do a couple tasks while he was at work, but Ludwig was fine with it; it gave him something to do. His loud friends didn’t come over again, so Ludwig had been able to get to sleep quickly.

Gilbert had been teaching him some phrases so that he could run errands such as getting pasta and sausage when they ran out. He made his way through the thin town streets to the local market.

The town was prettier than Ludwig had given it credit for. The restaurants and cafes all had luscious flowers and bushes outside. There was a sort of oldness to it, a feeling of being worn, that made it feel lived in and welcoming. Still, Ludwig knew little Italian and his accent when he spoke English was stronger than he desired. He kept his head down and tried to be efficient when he was doing tasks, but took longer, scenic routes on his strolls on the way home.

Ludwig had taken to cooking dinner so that it was ready as Gilbert was getting home. He had seared some sausage and put it with pasta and a family recipe sauce he found at the market. Gilbert was ecstatic when he came home from work exhausted.

“An awesome dinner for your awesome brother, huh? You must love me a lot, Ludwig!”

“Stop talking and eat.”

They were sitting on the breakfast bar stools against the raised counter, eating too much to have a conversation. On the platform, next to his plate, Gilbert’s phone vibrated. He read it quickly to himself.

“Seriously? Already?” he exclaimed.

“What is it?”

“Every year there’s this back to school night kind of thing where all the students get ready to come back and it’s like orientation for the new kids. Everyone is supposed to bring their family and stuff. But we’re only halfway through July! That’s so early! It’s tomorrow! That’s crazy!”

Ludwig gave a side eye. “Don’t go if it’s that crazy.”

“No, no, no, no. I have to go. And you, mister, are coming with me.” This caused mixed emotions. On one hand, Ludwig wanted to avoid it for the same reason he wanted to avoid all the other social interactions. Conversely, it might be a chance to actually make some friends for once. When he propped with wondering why he needed to go, Gilbert continued, “Because, Luddy, this is what we do! It’s the biggest event before school starts. There’s so many international kids here that you get to meet people from all over Europe. I don’t think you realize just how big of a deal this school is. It’s hard to get into, and there’s so much international competition. We have to go. And you’ll get to meet some of my friends; this time you won’t be in your underwear. 

Ludwig groaned. Hello, social awkwardness. Goodbye, good first impressions.


 

The evening started out like any normal back to school night and orientation. The dean gave a speech and the incoming students went one way with their families. The returning students went another. Unlike the new kids, they weren’t getting tours or speeches; they were partying.

Gilbert had deemed all of Ludwig’s clothes “not party material” and thrown something at him out of his own closet. It was a green shirt - since when did Gilbert even have green? - and told him to wear that. Due to the fact that Ludwig was taller and bigger, the material stretched across his chest; it was nothing like his style at all. He slid his hair back with gel like usual and grabbed his black jacket to wear over the skin tight shirt. With his black slacks, it didn’t look that bad. In fact, Ludwig actually liked the way he looked. Not that he would give his brother the satisfaction and boost his ego.

Gilbert, on the other hand, was wearing a ridiculously tiny black tank top with a short sleeve shirt button up over it. Thankful that Gilbert hadn’t tried to make Ludwig wear that tank top (it would have ripped, no doubt), he gave his brother a hard time about the button up. The shirt mimicked a Hawaiian tourist shirt with its bright blue color and repeating design, except for the fact that the design was a bunch of tiny swords.

“Gotta scare the incoming kiddos,” he explained. Ludwig couldn’t tell if it were a joke or not.

They quickly met up with one of the guys who had been over the few nights before. It was the guy with the short brunette hair. He smiled when he saw the two German brothers.

“Antonio!” Gilbert shouted.

“Gibert!” the guy, Antonio, shouted back. “And Ludwig, right? Your brother?”

The short guy to his side rolled his eyes. “This asshole. And apparently the asshole has a jerk brother now, too. Great.” He took a large sip of the drink in his hands.

Ludwig wasn’t sure what this guy’s problem was, but he stayed out of it for the time being, unsure if he was joking or not. He didn’t look like he was joking. Antonio jabbed him in the side, telling him to “be nice to the Germans.” He rolled his eyes again but stopped talking while Gilbert introduced them.

“This is Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, I’m sure you’ve heard. He’s attending from Spain and he graduates this year. This,” he gestured to the short, angry man, “is Lovino Vargas. He lives in town and goes to school here. It’s his second year. His brother was over at my apartment the other day. Feliciano. Where is Feli? Oh, there he is! Feli!”

That was the guy from the other night. Not the tall, blonde guy, as he was nowhere in sight. This was the shorter guy who had actually said hi to Ludwig. He wore a striped button up and a tie, undone a little bit and hanging low on his chest to leave room for the popped button. His brown hair hung around his face, curling up at the edges. “Ludwig, hi, I remember you!”

The other Italian boy, Lovino, glared at Ludwig.

Some girl shouted something and called Gilbert over; he slipped away with a quick farewell to his brother. The house next to campus where the party was was quickly getting filled with more and more people.

“I’m going to get some air,” Ludwig announced, turning to the door.

“Wait, I want to come,” Feliciano said.

Lovino groaned, telling Antonio to follow him to find the alcohol. He was going to need something stronger than whatever he was drinking.

Outside the house was better, but Ludwig had to walk about a block away from the house and school to reach complete peace; here, no half drunk underage adults were stumbling around or shouting. A little playground sat on the edge of the street corners and Ludwig quickly situated himself in a swing, digging his heels into the gravel to gain a little momentum. He didn’t bother to kick his legs, so once the swung stopped, he continued his pattern of shoving his feet to push up.

Feliciano took the swing next to him.

“What do you think of Italy?” he asks.

Ludwig gave a inquisitive look with a raised eyebrow, but answers the question honestly. He was so-so on it, saying, “I’ve got about as many friends here as I do at home - none - but at least I’ve got my brother here to hang out with.”

“You can hang out with us. I only recently started hanging out with the group. It’s… a little weird actually.” He laughed a loud laugh in the quiet playground.

“How so?”

“Your brother, Francis, and Antonio have been hanging out together since their first year, I guess. My brother, Lovino, is a year younger than them, and I’m a year younger than him; I graduated this spring. But Antonio and Lovino are good friends and, honestly, I think Antonio has a thing for him. Gilbert and Antonio kept inviting me to hang out with them, and I think it was probably so Antonio had an excuse to see my brother, but I’m just a part of the group by now.”

“Does Lovino like Antonio?”

This earned a laugh followed by a shrug. “Who knows? I don’t know if he likes guys romantically. But, he’s kind of a jerk to most people, so the fact that he has Antonio in any way is a miracle. Otherwise he would just be at home, carbo-loading and studying and being bitter.”

He slowed his swing to a stop, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a bottle of wine. Ludwig watched as he popped it open. The glass bottle wasn’t enough to get wasted on, but perhaps a bit tipsy, depending on the alcohol tolerance of the drinker. Feliciano made some comment about how wonderful big pockets were; they were just the same size as a bottle of wine if you got the right ones!

Feliciano held the bottle out towards Ludwig, inviting him to share the wine with him. Ludwig downed a sip; it was nothing like the beer they had in Germany. This red wine was sweet, but also acidic. Very distinct.

“You bring this to a party here in Italy?” he asked. “It’s so fancy.”

Feliciano took the bottle back and drank some, contemplating his reply. “Most of the college parties have beer or vodka ‘cause it’s cheaper to buy in bulk. I just think wine is better. And, of course, welcome to Italy, because this isn’t even the fancy stuff.”

Ludwig feigned exasperation. “You Italians are crazy!”

“It’s good in cooking!” Feliciano defended.

“Yeah, yeah.” Chuckling, Ludwig took back the bottle and drank again.

They went around like this for some time, sharing the wine and chatting idly. The dark playground was filled with the sound of laughter. In what felt like a couple minutes but was actually hours, the party down the block began to disband. People walked by the park on their way home and a couple waved to Feliciano. The diameter of people around the house party shrunk and shrunk, causing Ludwig to comment that he ought to go find his brother.

“Me too,” Feliciano said. “Unless my brother got sick of everyone and left with Antonio. He might’ve dragged him away, especially if your brother came back. Or Francis showed up. Or, ugh, he’s probably gone. I’ll check my phone.”

Feliciano pulled his phone out of his other pocket; the wine bottle, now empty, had taken back its place in his right pocket so they didn’t throw it away in the playground. He sighed, shoving his phone back in his pocket. “Yup, gone.”

“Can I ask you something? It might be personal,” Ludwig said. Cocking his head, Feliciano urged him on. “Why is Lovino such a, you know…”

“Dick? You can say it because he is. But, I’m not sure, to be honest. We didn’t live together when we were young. We had different moms. I lived with my grandpa on my dad’s side, though; Lovino moved in with us when his mom died in high school. We’ve gotten closer since then, but he was always kind of a jerk to everyone. That bad boy reputation and stuff. He’s not all harsh on the inside, but it takes a lot of digging to see. And he especially hates, well, nothing personal, but Germans. He’s biased. Don’t take offense.”

Ludwig stood up from the swing and stretched his legs. “None taken, but may I ask why?”

Feliciano gave a sad smile and looked away. “Nothing you can control. Just, this guy I knew in high school.” He sighed. “I’d rather not talk about him, though. It’s done.”

“Alright. I’m sorry for bringing it up. We should head back over there to see if Gilbert’s there.”

The two walked back together; the conversation had dwindled when Feliciano shut down any possible questions about his high school guy. Walking through the front door, some guy, probably the host, started talking in Italian.

“Non siamo qui per l'alcol. Dov'è il gilbert?” Feliciano said back. Gilbert recognized one of the words from Gilbert’s quick lessons. Feliciano had asked the host to point them towards Gilbert. Feliciano turned towards Ludwig to inform him, saying, “He last saw him in the backyard.”

Upon inspection, Gilbert wasn’t there. Ludwig gave in, finally texting him and telling him where he was.

The sound of a text tone alerted both the younger brothers to their phones, but it had actually been Feliciano’s that chimed. He groaned when reading it.

“Apparently my stupid brother is throwing up his guts in my bathroom and Antonio wants me to go help. That Spaniard’s always been bad at getting Lovino to listen. I bet you five euros that Antonio told him he was getting too drunk and he kept pounding drinks. I need to go.” Feliciano turned about halfway to go, but stopped. “Wait, here, give me your number and I’ll text you when I get home so you know I get home safe.” Ludwig quickly tapped his digits into Felliciano’s phone. Upon his insisting, Feliciano put his number into Ludwig’s phone, putting the contact name as Feli with a heart emoji. “Goodnight, Ludwig!”

Ludwig found a spot to sit. Around the border of the yard was a small garden and wood separated the grass from the garden. Yet, the garden hadn’t been completed, having only a few bushes, so the whole dirt patch was filled with empty plastic cups and broken chips. Ludwig sat on the wood border, waiting for Gilbert.

“Luddy!” Gilbert said, coming into the backyard from around the front. He was clearly a little drunk, but functional. “Let’s head home. I’ve got work tomorrow.” He groaned.

Walks around the town were quite quick and manageable. They were halfway home in minutes. As they rounded the corner which marked the halfway point, Gilbert drawled in German, “So, you hung out with Feli?”

“Mhmm.”

“What do you think? Do you approve?”

Ludwig nodded. “He was cool. I like him.”

“Perfect,” Gilbert said, laughing. Ludwig couldn’t identify what made him laugh, so he simply chalked it up to his drunkenness. “Hopefully you’ll be seeing him a lot.”

When they reached the apartment, Gilbert fumbled with the keys before he finally gave up and let his brother unlock the door. Ludwig locked the deadbolt behind him as Gilbert threw his shoes off to the side. Without shame, he pulled off his shirt, tossing it over his shoulder as he rummaged through the fridge and pantry. He raised two items in victory: a pickle jar and a sleeve of crackers.

“Drunk food of champions!” he exclaimed. “Hangover magic .”

Ludwig’s phone buzzed just in time for him to avoid the nightmare that was his brother slamming a shot glass filled with pickle juice.

Feli , 7m ago - I’m turning to my cul de sac now.

Feli , now - Lovino’s a mess.

Ludwig quickly typed back to say he was glad Feliciano got home okay and wished his brother well, adding that he himself got home alright after meeting up with Gilbert.

Feli - Good night! Guten nacht, ja?

Ludwig let a small smile slip when looking at the screen.

“Who’re you textin’, bro?” Gilbert asked through a mouthful of crackers. “You meet any hot chicks at the party? Without me? I can’t believe you.”

Ludwig shook his head. “I’m going to bed, Gilbert,” he said through laughs.

“You don’t want any pickle juice?” Gilbert shouted down the hallway.


 

Gilbert had started taking more late shifts. He would push work back an hour or two later than usual to spend time with his brother, taking him out to get to know the town and practice the little Italian he knew while learning more. It had been a week and a half and Ludwig was slowly beginning to enjoy his trip more.

Since the party, Ludwig had started texting with Feliciano. It turned out that his work schedule - he worked shifts at a little authentic Italian joint on the other side of town - was opposite Gilbert’s, nearly. As Gilbert was leaving, Feliciano was getting off. It gave Ludwig someone to talk to throughout the day.

Halfway through Lud’s second week in Italy, he got invested in a conversation with Feliciano. For the third time.


 Feli , 20:48 - Tell me a secret. Something no one knows.

Ludwig, 20:48 - Why?

Feli , 20:49 - Why not? What if I go first?

Feli , 20:50 - No one knows I speak Japanese.

Ludwig, 20:51 - How does no one know that??

Feli , 20:53 - I have a Japanese friend who inspired me to pick it up. I got a couple books and everything. I’m conversational, actually. But we stopped talking so it never was brought up or used. Okay, your turn.

Ludwig, 20:54 - Um

Ludwig, 20:54 - I have one, but…

Feli , 20:55 - What is it??

Ludwig, 20:59 - I’m gay.

Ludwig, 21:00 - I mean, it’s not like it’s a big secret. But no one knows. I didn’t really have anyone to tell, and I’ve never dated anyone.

Ludwig, 21:01 - Gilbert might know, but I never told him myself.

Feli , 21:02 - Dude don’t worry. I’m bisessuale! I don’t know the english word, but Gilbert would. Hopefully it sounds like the english or german word for it. I like girls and boys. Except, everyone knows, haha.

Ludwig 21:03 - Bisexual?

Feli , 21:03 - That sounds right!

Feli , 21:04 - Remember the guy from high school I talked about? Haha yeah he was my boyfriend. Until he shattered my heart, but it’s cool. I’m over him but I haven’t dated anyone else.

Ludwig, 21:05 - I’m sure you could if you wanted to.

Feli , 21:05 - I am cute, huh? :3

Feli , 21:06 -  Everyone is either taken, not into dudes, or ugly lol except like one person. How come you haven’t dated?

Ludwig, 21:07 - Socially awkward. Plus I was the only single gay guy. Plus most people suck.

Feli , 21:07 - Preach.

Feli , 21:08 - Likewise, though, I’m sure you could if you wanted to. Any guys you think are cute?

Feli , 21:09 - The college here is pretty diverse and the town is pretty open. There’s quite a few gay guys here, at least with the younger generations. But you don’t seem like the kind of guy who likes older men hahaha

Ludwig, 21:10 - Lol no, but there is one guy who I think is kinda cute

Ludwig, 21:11 - I’d like to hang out with him a bit more first, but… I wouldn’t be mad if something did happen, you know?

Feli , 21:11 - Yeah!

Feli , 21:12 - On the topic, has Gilbert mentioned the plans this weekend? We’re getting food on Friday, with Francis and Antonio and Lovi. You coming?

Ludwig - 21:12 - He did mention it, and I’ll be there.

Feli , 21:13 - Yay!!! I can’t wait! I gtg because Lovino is trying to talk to me. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. 

Ludwig, 21:14 - Talk to you tomorrow


 

There was a chain restaurant in the small town, a sports bar of sorts. They didn’t have them in Germany, but apparently the boys frequented the place. No games were on the televisions, nothing important anyway. They got a mountain of chicken wings in various flavors and levels of spiciness and talked for the evening.

All together, there were six boys. Gilbert, Ludwig, and Feliciano sat on one side, and Francis, Antonio, and Lovino sat on the other side.

It was odd, how quickly they had accepted Ludwig into their group. Gilbert had always been popular and loud and fun, frequenting parties and talking to anyone in a five kilometer radius. It made sense that he would hang out with other socialites like himself, Ludwig supposed.

In high school, Gilbert never had a set group of friends, hopping from person to person. Now, these friends seemed to be pretty constant in his life.

It probably helped that Ludwig was pretty quiet and enjoyed beer. They all seemed to enjoy drinking and had their respective alcohol of choice when ordering. Ludwig, though he prefered order, was easy going enough to follow the conversation without complaint.

Plus, Feliciano sat next to him.

The two had been talking often over text, so Ludwig had gotten comfortable with him. Comfortable enough. He would certainly consider him a friend; Ludwig had never had a friend before. They even had an inside joke from one of their conversations. Ludwig, while an introvert, could understand the appeal of extroversion. If he could have a friendship with everyone he met, he would be excited all the time, too.

“Gilbert, you know you’re the worst cook here!” Francis exclaimed in reply to Gilbert's insistence that he were a great chef.

“Seconded. Your pasta tastes like ass.” That was Lovino.

I can cook pasta!” Feliciano chimed in. “The best pasta. My grandpa taught me!” Lovino made a comment about how his pasta was better than his brother’s. “No way!” Feliciano continued. “Hey, Lud, you haven’t tried my cooking yet. You should come over and I’ll cook for you. I can cook, I promise.” He leaned close and whispered, “But I can’t tie my shoelaces in North Africa.” It was an allusion to their inside joke.

Ludwig barked with laugher. “I’d love to come taste your pasta. And perhaps I’ll have to teach you how to tie your shoelaces.”

“I can tie them here! Just not in North Africa!” They both melted into a fit of giggles.

The rest of the table had moved on to a different conversation - one of the soccer games on had ended, causing a cry of anger from Antonio - so they all missed the joking of the two new friends. Except, of course, Lovino. He kicked his brother under the table.

“Ow! Why’d you do that!”

“Il tuo flirt ti fa sembrare una puttana. Smettila di lasciare che i tedeschi ti spezzino il cuore.” Antonio flicked Lovino, chastising him for dirty language.

Feliciano was too busy responding, softly saying, “Non riesci a decidere chi ho lasciato rompere il mio cuore.”

In his two weeks in Italy, one thing became apparent: people liked to switch languages when they didn’t want you to know what they were talking about. The language diversity made that doable with the group. But when it came to speaking in Italian? The only one who didn’t know Italian was Ludwig, and they knew that; that meant they had to be talking about him . He pursed his lips crossly.

Ludwig suddenly felt a lot less like part of the group.

“Do you have to be such an asshole all the time, Lovino? Can’t you just be nice to me for once?” Feliciano said, switching back to English.

I’m the asshole?” Lovino countered. “I’m trying to keep you from being a puttana!” The rest of the table was listening in now, but, in traditional Lovino fashion, he didn’t care. “So if you want to be, be my guest. But for sure as hell don’t come running back to me, sobbing, because I won’t give a shit when I told you not to.”

Feliciano crossed his arms. “I have no idea what you’re talking about! Why are you so cynical and rude?”

“Because I saw our heart get crushed and you acted like a fucking child. What happens with boys is that they want you for superficial things, and then they fuck you, and then they act like nothing ever fucking happened! That’s why you don’t date or get feelings involved, Feli! Amore senza sofferenz e molto raro!”

Tearing up, Feliciano blinked harshly to make them go away. The effect was unintended: the tears came streaming down his face. The rest of the group piped up, telling Lovino he was being too harsh, to which Lovino replied that harshness was the only way to get his point through his brother’s head.

Feliciano brought a sleeve up to his eyes and wiped the tears off of his face, but they were quickly replaced.

“What if I know a really awesome guy who would treat Feliciano well?” piped up Gilbert.

“Do not get into this, Tedesco,” Lovino snapped as Feliciano slid out of the booth and headed to the bathroom, saying he would be back in a minute. “Oi, Fel- Well, he’s gone.”

Antonio whispered something in Lovino’s ear. Due to the loudness of the establishment, he had to speak quite loudly. Loud enough for Ludwig to hear that it wasn’t English. Presumably Spanish. Of course, another language swap. Typical. Just freaking typical.

Shrouded by the light bickering that ensued, Ludwig slipped out of the booth in pursuit of Feliciano. He found the man standing by the sink, trying to pull himself together. In the privacy of the bathroom, he had fallen apart more than he had in the booth. Now, his face was red and his eyes were puffy; his cheeks were completely tear streaked. The harsh paper towels probably were not helping with the irritation, but he blotted his eyes with them regardless.

“Feliciano?” Ludwig said softly, looking around to find the bathroom empty other than the two of them. The Italian let out a deep, moody hum, casting his eyes towards the floor and forcing his hair to fall in his face. “Hey, Feli, look at me.”

He looked up to have Ludwig push a piece of hair out of his face. “You alright?”

Feliciano’s lips quickly turned down in a sharp angle as he pushed them together, presumably to avoid any more crying. “I just don’t get why he’s so… like that .”

“I’ll be honest, I’m not quite sure what triggered the fight,” Ludwig admitted 

“Well, I… think someone is cute. And I know that Lovino wants to make sure I’m happy and I don’t get hurt. But he’s an asshole about it, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to find someone who will treat me well if I don’t take the risk of getting hurt. Lovino… he always does this. He just makes things worse! He tries to dictate who I have a relationship with. I don’t know what to do! Part of me wants to explore something, but the other part just keeps remembering what Lovino says. What… would you do?”

Feliciano was surprisingly calm as he spoke, the redness fading from his cheeks. His eyes were still puffy, but the swelling was going down. 

Ludwig hummed, finally saying, “It’s not his relationship. You’re an adult who can make his own decisions.”

“Do you think I should go for it?”

“If you want to, you might as well. Here, come here,” Ludwig instructed, leading the Italian to the sink. He yanked a paper towel out of the dispenser and got it wet in the motion sensing sink. Pressing the cold paper to Feliciano’s face, he let out a gasp. “It will help get rid of the red.” They repeated the process several times before his face was entirely its normal color. “Let’s go back to the table.”

They both slid into the booth, Ludwig followed by Feliciano. The arguing was gone, and instead replaced by gentle conversation and a grumpy Lovino, who hadn’t moved an inch. Overall, the table felt very tense and cautious. Feliciano sipped at his water glass until it was empty, then began to run his finger around the lip of the glass; his one empty wine glass, which he usually ran his fingers over, had been taken by a waiter while he was in the bathroom.

“Feli, do you want the last chicken wing?” Gilbert asked, the first to acknowledge their return.

He shook his head. As if that were the cue, Francis reached over and grabbed it off the plate, shoving it into his mouth.

The waiter came by, brandishing the check and setting it on the table. They all chipped in euros to help pay the tab off and shuffled out of the restaurant.

Outside, they said their farewells and parted, each going their separate ways. The Italian brothers went one way and the Germans the other; Francis and Antonio started the same way before parting a street later.

“I feel bad for Feliciano,” Ludwig commented.

“Yeah, the little guy deserves better. If he wants to date someone, Lovino shouldn’t get a say in that, you know?”

“Do you know who he likes?”

Gilbert smirked. “Maybe.”

“What would you do if I wanted to date someone?” Ludwig asked.

The shorter brother reached up to ruffle Ludwig’s slicked back hair. “Aw, does my little bro finally have a crush? Get some, Luddy!”

“Ja?”

“Ja! It’s about time!”


 

Feli , 23:34 - You said I should go for a relationship if I’ve taken interest, right?

Feli , 23:34 - Do you still feel that way?

Ludwig, 23:40 - Yeah, why?

Feli , 23:43 - I think you’re cute, Ludwig. I like talking to you. And hanging out with you. You’ve been really kind to me. So, this is me taking action. Would you like to go on a date with me?

Ludwig, 23:44 - For real? Yeah, I’d enjoy that. When are you thinking?

Feli ,  23:44 - Really?!?!

Feli , 23:45 - If you’re free tomorrow, my brother is going to be gone. I could cook you pasta like we were talking about earlier!? 

Ludwig, 23:45 - Sounds great! I don’t think Gilbert and I have plans, so I should be free.

Ludwig, 23:46 - Let me ask really quick, but we should be good for tomorrow.

Feli , 23:47 - Yay! See you then!


As he walked home from Feliciano’s house, Ludwig had several thoughts racing through his mind.

First and foremost, Feliciano did not disappoint in his cooking. Dinner as promised, was stunning. He cooked a traditional Italian pasta dish that he had learned from his grandpa. It was so flavorful and cooked to perfection. And Ludwig got to watch the whole process.

Feliciano decided to cook after his arrival to make sure that it was hot when they ate, just in case Ludwig had trouble finding his house; it was in a cul de sac in a back road of a small neighborhood and he had never been there before. Ludwig sat on the counter, watching Feliciano cook and talking with him while he boiled noodles and made a from scratch sauce. He was a bit messy, and Ludwig’s orderly nature kicked in. He helped clean the kitchen, but as his date insisted, they ate first.

Ludwig ate and even when he was full, he wanted to keep eating. He maintained self control, though.

Another thought he had was that their house was very nice. It was quite a large piece of land. Four bedrooms, four bathrooms, a living room and kitchen that were the size of Gilbert’s whole apartment, a sunroom, and a lovely yard. His grandfather must’ve been quite rich to own such an estate and the Vargas brothers were lucky to have inherited it.

With just the two of them, it felt so big and so empty. Two empty bedrooms, on other sides of the house, left it feeling like there was endless space in the home. Ludwig, who loved the grand house, liked the closeness of his home in Germany. Still, the house was lovely, and he got the whole tour, including a mini room tour in Feliciano’s bedroom.

After dinner, Feliciano showed him the garden and yard. Mostly Feliciano kept it up, according to his accounts. Sometimes Lovino helped, but that was rare and took a lot of coaxing.

The third conclusion he came to was that he liked dating. Or maybe he just really liked Feliciano. He certainly liked Feli more than he realized at first. But he had a genuine amount of fun; had Ludwig smiled this much in his life?

Germans were somber and quiet, reserved in their affection, and that included smiles. Ludwig was introverted and serious on top of his culture. Somehow, he found himself smiling a lot.

Finally, Feliciano was a great kisser.

No, nothing happened. Except for one kiss before Ludwig parted. It was short and sweet, but everything about it was so nice .

Feliciano had been saying his farewells to Ludwig before he left, and, standing on the porch, he asked, “May I kiss you?” Upon a nod from Ludwig, he stepped up on put his hands on Ludwig’s shoulders, who, in response, put his hands high on the Italian’s hips. Feliciano had to stand on his tippy toes, even as Ludwig tilted his head downwards.

When he stepped back, Feliciano said, “I’ve had a good time tonight.”

“As have I.”

“Will you text me when you get home, so I know you get home safe?”

“Of course, Feli.”

“Good night.”

“Good night. Thank you for the wonderful evening.”