Chapter Text
West Germany's house had been quiet for a while now, he quite enjoyed it that way. The world was at a state of rest that made it seem in limbo, still. Ludwig relished the calm, he'd always been a busy body, a neat freak. Now he could work out, study, write, walk the dogs, whatever he wanted to. All day every day. Sometimes he grew restless, or woke up in a sweat, expecting to be under attack or called upon by Italy. Nothing, even the phone lines were still.
Ludwig didn't live alone, Prussia; Gilbert, had been living in his house for almost a year. The house was large however, and after a few months of one on one time, the brothers had decided they could each stay to their own side of the house. They loved each other, sure, ich leibe dich, but you don't have to always love the people you love. Beer once or twice a week is more than enough. So that's how every day went, walk the dogs, liverwurst for breakfast, study, work out, study, work out, stare out the window, study, work out, walk the dogs - gott it is only 1pm... -
Ding dong!
Germany snapped out of it, bouncing up and out of his desk chair and onto his heels. A visitor? He couldn't care less who it was, he was sick of pretending boring was how he liked it. Lately it had been 'Dear Diary....err....uh...err....ja...' Ludwig flattened his uniform and ran a hand back through his hair to make sure it was in order before making his way towards the front door. To his dismay, he heard a familiar shrill voice echoing down the hall. To his delight, he heard a familiar shrill voice behind it. Germany reared the corner of the hallway that lead to the foyer, there Italy stood, the springtime sun shining down across his auburn hair and highlighting the thick eyelashes rimming his sealed eyes. Before him stood Gilbert, hand on his forehead with an indignant smirk as he chattered on. He was speaking such lies about his awesomeness Germany could see it actively polluting the air.
Unfortunately for Gilbert, the moment Italy saw Germany his big amber eyes flew wide open. He slipped past Prussia, and before Ludwig could even blink the shorter man flew into his sculpted chest. "Ciao Germanyyyyyyyyyyyy!"
The man sung joyfully, placing a sloppy kiss on either of Germany's cheeks. Both turned a warm pink. Germany pat Italy's back firmly, sighing and giving him a firm squeeze. Italy simpered and embraced him, reciprocating ten times tighter and losing himself in Germany's huge chest. Briefly, Ludwig looked above Italy's head and caught Gilbert's eye. Gilbert had enchanting eyes, a hue of pink and violet overcast them. Usually enchanting, in that moment haunting and dark. He sneered, but it was more like a hateful smirk, before he left through the way he came, back towards the eastern wing of their house. (Germany's house, but Prussia calls it their house, even though he contributes quite little.)
Ludwig eased Italy, who was giggling in a trance, off of him. He couldn't help the soft laugh that escaped him. "Italy, hello. What brings you here?"
Italy beamed at him. “Ve~ I was bored Germany….Romano seems to know what he’s doing back home, and he told me to go here if I was so bored. I was like, oh my gosh wow yeah! Germany’s house! So can I stay here? Thanks Germany~”
Feliciano hummed to himself in happiness, patting Ludwig’s chest as he advanced towards the west wing. Germany didn’t bother saying no, just exhaled with a mix of endearment and exasperation.
When the axis powers were still a big thing (a while ago now) Germany reminisced on spending every moment with Japan and Italy, and eventually mostly just Italy. During that time the two had grown very close, nowadays Ludwig felt comfortable with a lot more people, but back then - for the most part - Italy was his only one.
He watched fondly as Feliciano led him through his own house. The smaller man was very familiar with it to say the least. Germany recalled day after day waking up curled around a naked Italy, masterfully extracting himself before he ever woke up. Perhaps it would be similar this time, the thought made Ludwig’s stomach stir.
Of course Feliciano was headed right for the kitchen, he’d come in the house with a small basket covered with a tea towel. He comfortably plopped it on the counter and unveiled his luggage, Ludwig spotted his pyjamas and underwear, but besides one pair of each it was just food. Pre-made pasta, a lump of pizza dough, two jars of tomato paste. Typical. Italy faced Germany with his trademark smile. “Heya Germany, it’s the afternoon right? let me make afternoon tea and dinner for us ve~? Okay!”
Germany smiled and walked past, running a hand through Italy’s hair in subtle affection, intentionally grazing over his curl and making his back go rigid. “Ja, okay idiot. I’ll put your clothes away, don’t think I won’t be right back.”
Ludwig scooped up Italy’s clothes and made his way towards his chambers.
The building consisted of the bottom floor, which had two kitchens, the foyer, two studies, two bathrooms, a grand living room and of course the garage Gilbert occupied a majority of his time, then upstairs was six bedrooms, because you could never have enough (Germany had become very used to other countries inviting themselves over the years), three bathrooms, and a library.
Ludwig veered towards the bedroom beside his own and put Italy’s one outfit and pair of underwear on the bed, though he was sure Italy wouldn’t use this room very much. As he fluffed the pillows and the blankets just in case, a shadow overcast the light that came from the room’s entrance. “West,”
Germany stood up straight, angling his shoulders so he could see his brother but not entirely facing him. “Gilbert.” He acknowledged, nodding his head. Outwardly he seemed quite unbothered, but his heart was running circles in his chest. All he could see was the same haunting look as before.
Gilbert simpered in usual Gilbert fashion, brow furrowing. “Ita-chan has arrived, does he plan to stay? Of course he would in our awesome home, since I am here, but… is he?”
Ludwig felt a dash of frustration, his brother was ridiculous and he’d always felt that way. “Ah, yeah, he is.”
“Vhy don’t you put him in between us?” Prussia meant, of course, their bedrooms. Four of the six chambers were on the same wall, the order went Prussia, empty, Germany, now Italy. Subconsciously Ludwig understood it was intentional, Gilbert always had a somewhat ‘French’ approach towards Feliciano and he didn’t fancy the prospect of them being in rooms side by side. “….I didn’t think it mattered.”
He said feebly, but he knew that if his older brother was good for anything it was definitely seeing straight through him. Prussia chuckled inwardly, and went for the straightforward approach. “So we can level the playing field of course. The game is already in your favour West! Throw me a bone~”
“Guh….you’re so grosz…”
Prussia snorted, putting his hands on his hips and raising an eyebrow. “Awesome me? Ridiculous! Look in the mirror shorty mc short IDIOT. Did you not have an ulterior motive yourself? You underestimate me.”
Ludwig’s skin prickled and his fists clenched. “Azhole.” He scooped Italy’s clothes back up and marched past Prussia, relocating to the bedroom in between the ones that belonged to the brothers. Gilbert trailed behind him and performed his high pitched laugh, the one that made Germany’s ears ring.
By the time Germany had the opportunity to return to the kitchen, it was a bomb site. Maybe Italy had found a grenade and opened it the wrong way again. But no, all the red everywhere was just pizza sauce. Italy swimming around it in the middle, a mess of flour and everything. He was even wearing Germany’s cooking apron. It was pale pink and frilly, so sadly it would likely stain easy. He tried not to be upset, it wasn’t like he loved his pink frilly apron or anything. “Italyyyyy!”
“Sikh heil!” Italy shrieked, muscle memory. Ludwig’s chest heaved as he took it all in. Then he landed on Feliciano’s nervous face, hands caked pure white. Germany exhaled slowly, blinking his shock away, and got to work on the clean up. Italy gradually turned to a smile and kept cooking gleefully, humming a nostalgic tune as they both tended to their respective kitchen roles. The sun was setting when the tantalising aroma of homemade pizza and pasta wafted through the kitchen, even Gilbert had been lured over from his cave to see what was going on. Three dishes served in the centre of the sparkly clean kitchen island, a heady Taglietelle, a Margherita pizza and a wurst pizza (Italy infiltrated Germany’s stores for that one). Ludwig lifted his apron off of Italy while the man fawned over his creations, drooling over one then getting distracted to do so over the next, it was an endless cycle. He grumbled and studied the sauce stains, hanging it on a hook and deciding it would be tomorrow’s problem. His now problem was his brother snickering as he hand fed Feliciano some of the Margherita. The cheese was elastic and creamy, and as Italy drew away with a bite out of Prussia’s hand, he remained connected by the string.
Gilbert had a guilty smirk on his face, a hue of sick pink overcasting his face. Germany couldn’t deny the sight affected him in a similar way, he swallowed awkwardly and cleared his throat. Snapping at least Italy’s attention towards him. “Ludwig come try some! Ve, You basically helped me make it! I made the wurst pizza for you two!”
Italy scarfed the rest of the pizza Prussia had been holding, leaving him with a line of crust. He held the plate of wurst pizza out to Germany and the man let out a breathy laugh. “Danke…”
He took a slice for himself, Gilbert slid up against his shoulder and took a slice too. “Mmm! Almozt as awesome as me, Feli.”
Feli snickered and put the plate down so he could help himself to his pasta, reminding both German brothers that he was more interested in pasta than either of them. Gilbert shouldered Germany gentle and Germany shouldered him right back hard enough to send him a few steps to the side. “Bastard…” Ludwig sighed under his breath, taking a seat at the counter of the kitchen island.
Prussia guffawed and fell down onto the couch in the next room. The living room was visible from the kitchen through a large archway, couch facing a fire place. He caught Italy’s eye and smacked the empty couch pillow beside him, demand oozing through his posture.
Italy ambled over, hunched over his plate of Taglietelle. Germany watched over them, looming like a particularly intimidating mountain. Prussia made sure to catch his eye as he draped his arm over Italy’s shoulders and began to entail his amazing adventures, for the most part just calling himself cool and amazing, Germany caught some of the mechanical terminology even if Italy wasn’t understanding as well. Gilbert leaned in and whispered something into Feliciano’s ear. Ludwig thought he looked like a weasel in that instant. Italy went bright pink and exclaimed something in Italian, smiling and smacking Prussia’s lap. It looked so….casual. Playful, Ludwig wished he was more playful. He tried hard not to be insecure, Italy was his best friend in the whole world, so he surely didn’t mind that Germany wasn’t so playful as his older brother.
He still couldn’t help the pit in his stomach. “I’ll just fill it with this immaculate pizza..”
He mumbled to himself, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten something so good.
Dinner went on nicely, Gilbert wasn't being too performative. He was laying it on really thick but Ludwig had immaculate buffers. When everyone had finished eating and the topic of dishes came up, Prussia was gone as fast as he had arrived (haha!) and Germany was finally alone with Italy again. Feliciano had a habit of swaying side to side while he scrubbed the dishes. Germany had always known him as lazy, only motivated for trivial things like women and food. He had noticed that out of the pattern, Italy had good habits with household chores. He wasn't sure why, it felt really normal, like he'd been around it before, but he couldn't pin it down. "How can you dance with no music?"
Ludwig remarked, heart jumping fondly as Italy did a little pirouette between the sink and the drying rack. Italy smiled at him, pausing his dishes in the sink. "I am thinking about the music, Ludwig! Have you never done that before? When I listen to it and I really like it I remember, and if I like....listen to it a lot then I can bring it with me wherever I go."
"Like....studying." Ludwig attempted to empathise, falling in line beside Italy. He suffered the occasional hip bump as he scrubbed. Germany was never huge on music, he'd thought about it before, considering it was quite intellectual. He didn't keep much of his own music, but he remembered when Austria used to play it a lot, and sometimes he hears...rather, feels a beat coming from Prussia's side of the house. Prussia's music wasn't as intellectual as Austria's though.
Ludwig really admired Italy for his ability to be so casual, it was something he really wanted to reciprocate. Italy noticed him staring and grinned. "What?"
Flustered, Germany focused on the dishes again. He put what turned out to be the last dish on the drying rack, polishing it and lifting it to see his own reflection. Square pale blue eyes, slicked back platinum blonde still perfect. The side of Italy's head in the outer of its scope. "Ve Germany, I'm going to take a bath, bathe with me?"
Ludwig inhaled sharply and shook his head. "Mein gott Italy...."
The smaller man tee-heed and shot Germany a delicate wave before he skipped upstairs. Germany stared in the direction of the stairs for moments after Italy had already gone, catching his breath. He weighed the pros and cons of this scenario, like any rational person was inclined to do.
Con
- Messy
- Loud
- Stupid
- Gilbert (he couldn't bring himself to blame Italy)
Though, as he went through the pros he decided they were far more. The biggest hurdle was his brother, the other three....Germany came to terms with those a long time ago. He employed the same logic as before, they'd been best friends, he could rely on Italy. In the least emotionally. He made a mental note to ask Italy more about his circumstances, and how long he planned to saty. Although he wasn't very fussed at the prospect of the Italian making himself at home for as long as he desired, even if there wasn't an outstanding reason. He tidied up a few of his housemates remnants before deciding he'd done more than enough to start settling down.
Of course.
There was only one ensuite in the entire house, one out of the four bathroom options. That was the one connected to Ludwig's bedroom, and that was the one Italy decided he was going to bathe in. Ludwig, ever meticulous, had an in depth nighttime routine. He wouldn't call it meticulous...anyone who didn't take five minutes to cleanse their face, the most important part of their impression (!), was the weirdo. I.e Prussia, Italy, pretty much everyone.
He really wanted to get over it, so for now he just changed his clothes and folded them into his washing hamper. He noticed Italy's uniform scattered across the floor. Great, so that meant he was in there no clothes. Germany wondered what sort of madman threw his clothes on the floor before he even stepped onto the bathroom tile. He shook his head with a sigh and collected the pieces, the last thing he grabbed was the boxers. Three lines of colour went across them horizontally, yellow then red then black across the top. He still folded it delicately into the hamper. By now, 10 minutes had passed since Ludwig last hovered over his bathroom door. Here he was again, Italy's bath was reaching the thirty minute mark. "You better not be using mein toiletries...."
Germany hissed against the door, the image of Italy taking control of his soap, multiple pumps....lathering it over his body.....he wasn't thinking about the soap as much anymore, and his stomach stirred just as it did when he thought about Italy curling up beside him naked.
"I-" Germany thumped a fist down on his chest when his voice cracked, blushing profusely. "...Italy?"
There was no response. Pure, torturous silence was all Ludwig heard. His brow furrowed and he knocked. "Italy?"
He didn't think about it for very long, he just opened the conveniently unlocked door. There was water all over the floor, not even just outside the grandiose bath tub. Germany's towel was used as an improvised bath mat even though one was right there on the rack, begging to be thrown onto the floor, and to top it all off, the toilet seat was still up. Ludwig could've died if he'd gone to take a shit without paying much attention. He reminded himself this is why it is so important to be alert at all times. The centrepiece of the scene was Italy, laying asleep in the lukewarm bathtub. Ludwig didn't know wether it was more or less inappropriate to wake him up.
Instead he marched himself to the sink, relieved at the mostly-clean surface, and got to washing his face. It was only when Italy whimpered that he faltered. When he whimpered a second time Germany looked up, hands on his foamy cheeks. Italy was laying in the bathtub trembling and whimpering, jerking every here and there. A nightmare? It was a lot like when one of the dogs was having a hard time. Germany suspired and splashed his face before he came up beside Italy. He'd be more hot and bothered at such a vulnerable sight, but he would be lying if he wasn't used to seeing Italy's naked body. He tentatively reached towards the other man's knee, his limb propped up just out of the water. "Germany..."
Italy whined, brows furrowing. Germany couldn't hold back anymore, he clutched Feliciano's knee, rocking him more than he intended. Italy squealed and sat up straight, opening and closing his eyes over and over. He sniffled. "Ludwig? Ludwig!"
He reached up and embraced Germany around his shoulders, pinning his arms to his ribs awkwardly. He sniffled again. "I had a bad dream that you didn't want to be friends with me anymore...and neither did Gilbert or Lovino...and no one wanted me to stay in their house! I'm sorry...."
Germany was having a hard time knowing what to worry about, comforting Italy over a silly dream that would never be true, or the fact that a naked, wet Italy was hugging him tightly, and Germany was staring straight down his back. "Mm...mm....what?" He tripped over his own words, pathetically extending his fingers, but Italy had him held in an odd position, so he couldn't do much else in such a state of surprise. He swallowed, trying to centre himself despite the sudden lightness of his head. "Don't be...sorry."
That's all he managed. Ludwig stood up robotically, and Italy held on tightly, getting lifted up along with Germany. ".....We should both get dressed."
Italy had drenched Ludwig's clothes in the process. The gears were clanking in his head as he turned and walked out of the bathroom with Italy hanging off of him. Italy only unlatched when they were out. Germany pounced onto his dresser, making sure that Italy couldn't see what he looked like from the front. "...I left your clothes on the bed to the room on the right...ja?"
Feliciano raised his eyebrows slowly, and lowered them slowly. He nodded and ambled out of Ludwig's bedroom. "Goodnight!" Ludwig called after the Italian, hoping that maybe he could get it through his head that the best route right now would just be to go to sleep in his own bedroom. Once he was sure Italy was gone he changed his clothes and threw the wet pyjamas into the hamper in a flash, muscles tensed like crazy by the time he was sat in his own bed. One muscle particularly tense, protruding through the thick quilt Germany had cast over his lap. "Verdammt.:
He uttered, attempting to will away the disturbance with mental fortitude. No such luck.
Ludwig lay back, breathing deeply. There wasn’t an easy way out of this, he decided he’d just get it done as quick as possible. He reached his right arm under the covers and began to tend to himself. “Stop thinking about Italy!” He cursed himself.
You know that theory about pattern recognition? Well, it was hard to not see Italy standing in the doorway, even if Germany wasn’t thinking about him while he whacked it. Their eyes met, and everything went still. Italy batted his eyes. “Huh? Agility? You like athletic women Germany? Is that why all your women are more muscular than me?” He pouted.
Ludwig withdrew his hand torturously slow, all over his skin was red. He swallowed and squirted some of the hand sanitiser on his bedside into his hand. His Frankfurt was begging for attention. He steeled himself, skin fading back to fair as he switched on and off again. “….Ja. Sure.” He rolled over and faced the back wall, closing his eyes. He would forget about this as soon as possible. Then he felt Italy slide in bed beside him. “Felici-“
His brow furrowed and he looked over his shoulder to Italy spooning him from behind, already drooling against his bicep. What sleeping that fast humanly possible? Maybe just for Italy. “Gh….”
Wherever Italy was pressed up against Ludwig felt like it was on fire, he faced the back wall again, unable to think of even see clearly. He’d planned to interview Italy before bed, but that idea had flown out the window. He had also been looking forward to the prospect of being in bed together, but this scenario seemed far too calculated. His member had only become more insistent, at least he was sure which way was north, because he had a massive arrow pointed straight towards the pole. Ludwig flinched as Italy’s hand absently traced his waist. “Fuck….”
Ludwig wasn’t proud of the measures he took that night to settle himself, Italy right there. He’d never speak of it to a soul, and he was more than practiced in brushing things under the rug. He made sure that the moment he woke up he was gone, it was a crisp morning, a wonderful one to wake up at the crack of dawn. Italy was dead to the world after he fell asleep, slipping away to walk the dogs was easy.