Ch1: Chena con i Vergas.
Ludwig was ready for this. The German had read twelve self-help books for this occasion. He'd
picked out a nice suit, bought chocolate and wine, and taken the world's longest shower, meaning all
possible scent of beer, wurst and potatoes was erased. This way, a certain southerner wouldn't have
any fuel for his fire, for his flames of German prejudice. Yes, he could do this. He had never been so
prepared.
Besides, it's not like he had to introduce himself to the entire family. The blonde already knew Feli's
brother. Of course, he acknowledged the fact that Romano wasn't very fond of him (meaning he would love nothing more than to see Ludwig's eyes gouged out with a hot spoon, before having several key body parts cut off and salt rubbed into the stubs before finally being burned at the stake for the crime of corrupting his little brother). Knowing this however, Ludwig remained oddly optimistic as he knocked on the heavy, wooden door of his boyfriend's villa, he'd lived in military-training camps for most of his childhood, he'd survived amnesia (a story for another day) and he lived with Gilbert. How hard could talking to a pasta-loving Italian pensioner be?
A tall, muscular man with dark-brown hair and golden eyes answered the door. He wore a black suit,
with a matching fedora and a pair of expensive, black leather shoes. The stranger greeted Ludwig with a carefree smile and a wink. (In other words: He's sexy and he knows it don don don non don don don non don don non non.)
"Hello, you must be Feli's boyfriend. I'm his Nonno Roman". This was his grandfather? He couldn't be a day over thirty. The suit-clad man seemed too young to be his father, never mind his father's father!
However the military-man brushed this off with a polite "Yes. Hello Mr. Vergas, I'm Ludwig Bewderschmitt" and a firm handshake. First introduction was a success. Short but to the point. Like Danni DeVito.
"That name sound familiar..."Roman scratched his Adam's apple thoughtfully before waving it off. "Oh well, it'll come. Please, come inside."
Ludwig was led into the large dwelling. Every wall was decorated with beautiful paintings or adorable
pictures of the family. This gave the whole place gave a feeling of warmth and security. Ludwig
followed the man to the dining-room which was filled with the scent of Italian cooking. Roman informed him dinner would be ready in a few minutes.
Romano sat at the table staring at the knife in his hand and muttering something about "potato
bastards" while Feliciano had his arms around his brothers singing something about white flags, boots and circles. It didn't take long for the youngest Italian to notice Ludwig and envelop him in a bone-crushing glomp. "Ve~"
"Get a room." Snapped the grumpy brother, disgusted by the sight of his little brother touching the
macho potato.
"Okay!" Now Feliciano proceeded to drag a startled Ludwig across the large kitchen into the hallway
before he became distracted by Romano shouting and tugging harshly at the two. "No! I won't let a
fucking cuckoo-clock-loving fascist steal my frattello's virtue!"
"Ve~ Italy invented fascism, silly!" Trust Feliciano to focus on that.
"Besides, how do you know Feli's still a virgin? He does spend most nights at Ludwig's." Grandpa
Roman's voice chimed in from the kitchen aria followed by a string of his smooth chuckles.
Suddenly, the man's face grew grave; he turned to the German and raised a single eyebrow. "He is
still a virgin, right?"
Ludwig was red-faced. "Y-yes sir."
"No I'm not!"
Everyone turned to Feliciano in shock and horror.
"What are you talking about?!" It was Ludwig's turn to ask questions. Had he lost it to someone else?
No, that was ridiculous! "I don't think that means what you think it means!"
"Well, virgin olive-oil is just olive oil with nothing else. So if I'm a virgin it must mean that I'm only
made by one thing! But I'm made from billions of tiny cells that all have a bunch of different stuff in
th-"
Romano sighed in both frustration and relief. "No dipshit, we mean the other way. Like around the
beginning of the new testament."
Feliciano gave a smile of understanding. "I can't tell you because nonno told me that these were
private, grown-up things that you shouldn't have to discuss-"
"GODAMMIT FELI-"
"Ve~ I think the gnocchi are ready! We'd better eat before they get cold!" The cheerful nineteen-
year old skipped to the stove and began to set up for dinner.
Once everyone was seated and had complimented for cooking, presentation or what they brought,
they slipped into some pretty comfortable conversation which Feli (per usual) initiated. "Ludwig's
studying to become an engineer!"
Roman was impressed. "I was an engineer once; it was my ninth favourite job."
"I'm sorry?" Ludwig inquired politely.
"Nonno's had more jobs than fucking Barbie and Arnold Schwarzenegger combined." Romano rudely, but
quite helpfully interrupted.
"Hey, Ludwig kinda looks and sound like Arnold Schwarzenegger, doesn't he? It makes sense, they're
both stupid bastards."
Roman laughed. "Says the one who had a giant poster of the man in a bathing suit hanging over his bed
when he was nine!"
Romano went red. "IT WAS A HUMAN ANATOMY STUDY FOR ART!"
"And I suppose all the times you wrote "Mrs Romano Schwarzenegger" with heart boarders in your binder
were just to practice cursive."
"SHUT UP BASTARD!" Damn, he thought he'd burned all the evidence
"Relax Romano. It was a phase and you passed through it."
"It was one time. Okay? Besides, at least he's not a German bastard."
Ludwig didn't know what was more disturbing, the fact that Romano had referred to himself as
Mrs. Schwarzenegger, that he'd admitted to the ridiculous acts or the fact that he was nine when this
obsessive behaviour was taking place.
"I blame myself!" Cried Roman dramatically. "If I hadn't left to build my various empires you two
wouldn't have been left to spend summers in the homes of Spaniards and Austrians!"
"Bastard, what does this ha-"
"You wouldn't be so confused by your genders and you would both be married to a pair of good Italian
women who'd have a lonely but still very attractive great-aunt to set me up with!"
"Ve~ I'm sure Ludwig knows a woman of that description!"
"How'd you two meet?" He changed the subject seeing as the only women the German knew were
probably drill Sargent. Besides, although Roman heard this story many times from his chatty grandson
he wanted to hear Ludwig's re-telling. Surely, he'd be able to add something to it. A German flair
(although he wasn't sure Germans could have flair, never mind their own special brand of it).
The blue-eyed college student decided to go with the time after the accident, seeing as before he
thought Feliciano was a girl and he was still a little fuzzy on the details (again, a story for another
day).
"It was May. He was hiding from Professor Kinkerland in a tomato box."
"What the fuck kind of story is that?!That told us nothing other than the fact that my brother's a
wimp! We already know that! Tell us something else kraut-face!" Rude.
"Well..." The German frowned and went slightly red. "He asked me not to kill him because you can't
kill a man who's never had se-"
"MY BROTHER WOULD NEVER SAY SUCH A THING!"
Feli laughed. "But I did, and he made a really funny face and then I became his best friend, right?"
"Ja." This meant Feliciano clung to him, declared them BFFs, kidnapped a Japanese kid from the
library and decided that they should call themselves "The Axis Powers". Ludwig was convinced the
cute little Italian had no clue what he was referencing at first. Ludwig was wrong. This meant that he
either had some extreme political views or an extremely risky sense of humour. Ludwig had yet to
learn which one.
"Ludwig, Feli?" Asked Roman politely
"Ve~ Yes?"
"When am I gonna get some great-grand-babies? I'm not gonna live forever, yanno."
"I don't know," answered his grandson innocently "but I want lots and lots of kids! At least four!"
Ludwig understood that most modern Italians had only one or two children, most modern Germans
were the same so he wasn't expecting this kind of answer. But this was Feli, and the German was just
grateful he hadn't answered eighty-thousand-bazillion-by infinity-plus one ...or eight, you can't bring
up eight kids unless you're making some serious mula.
It was still an unexpected question. They were men after all! They couldn't physically have children
unless England or a fan fiction writer were somehow involved in the process. And any adoption agency
that would give Feli kids should be reported to the government. Ludwig loved him but the guy's
nineteen and still can't tie his own shoelaces! He killed sea-monkeys! How do you even kill sea-
monkeys you ask? Easy, battery-oil, a crayon, carbonara sauce and Miley Cyrus's 'Seven things I hate
about you' live on MTV...not that Ludwig had that song on his iPod or anything. He never really
expected to be under any pressure so he was not prepared for this question. "I...think...we
should...see where the relationship takes us first..."
"YOU MEAN YOU DON'T PLAN TO MARRY MY FREATELLO?! YOU MEAN YOU'RE JUST USING HIM FOR-"
"Are you not sure you love me enough to start a family?" Oh crap. Feli was about to cry.
"Nein! It's just...we're still in collage! It's not the time to be thinking about starting a family!"
Feliciano's tears seemed to return from their native spring. "Okay!"
When everyone was finished, Roman stood and disappeared for a while before returning with a large
bottle. "Well, I think Feliciano's finally old enough to try some grappa!"
"Ve~ Really?!"
Oddly enough, he didn't offer any to anyone but Feliciano. He didn't even take any himself.
Long story short, Feliciano got very drunk very fast and was clinging to his very, very confused
boyfriend. "Hey..."Hiccup."Ve~ Ludwig, yanno what's funny? You. You are so funny!" Then came the
crying. "Please don't leave me!"
Then he got angry. But that didn't last very long seeing as he had enough time to make the expression
before passing out onto Ludwig's lap. The engineering student almost felt like he had to explain
himself to Romano and Roman even if they'd seen the entire thing themselves.
"I'll bring him to bed." Sighed Ludwig.
"Fuck no!" Shouted the Southerner. "You'll try something, perverted potato!"
Romano dragged his brother to the room they shared. It was very awkward and Romano struggled as
he wasn't very strong, but in his mind he'd saved his brother from a Germanic pervert so it was worth
it.
Ludwig rose. "I'd better leave then. Thank you ver-"
"Follow me." Said Roman in a military tone the guest knew very well. It was not a request, it
was an order.
Once again, Ludwig was left following his host through the home until he was in an office that
reminded him of the one in the Wayne mention. (Even potato-bastards enjoy batman.) Dark wood,
red walls, bookshelves, a cream colour globe, an ornate desk with a large window behind it, a leather
couch in the corner and two comfortable-looking chairs on either side of the desk. The blue-eyed
man took it all in for a second. Ludwig wasn't much for nicknames, but he'd mentally christened it
"The Roman Cave."
"Sit."
Ludwig did as he was told.
Roman sat facing Ludwig behind the desk; his face was now serious as a Swede's. "In many ways, my
youngest grandson is like the girl of this family." Roman put his hands into 'the finger-pyramid of evil
contemplation' position. "You may not know this, but Italian fathers are very protective of their
daughters. Feli is more-or-less my daughter. Do you understand?"
Ludwig swallowed hard. "Yes sir."
"He really likes you. That's why you're not dead...Yet. "The ageless man rested his hands easily behind
his head. "Just make sure he keeps on liking you and we should be just fine."
That's when it all came together: Feli's family was mafia! It all made sense! The dress sense, the
expensive home, the seemingly split personality of the nonno. Roman had purposely gotten his
grandson drunk in order to get him out of the way so he could make his position clear to Ludwig. One
false move and he'd have the mafia on his tail. Well shit.
"I swear I'd rather die than upset you grandson." This was true. He really did love the pasta-eating cry
-baby.
"Well, of course. Just laying dead is easier than withstanding months upon months of physical,
psychological and emotional torture." Now Roman had a sweet, carefree smile plastered on his
youthful face. Yep, definitely mafia. "So make sure you don't."
Just then Romano burst in. "Where the fuck were you?! I thought the kraut had killed you and dumped
your body in a mass grave with his other victims! Why'd you come here?!"
"I was just showing him some stuff from my engineering days!" Smiled Roman innocently.
Romano didn't believe it but decided to play along. "Okay. But I still don't like the idea of potato
bastards in my house." Ludwig was getting sick of that nickname.
"Your brother likes him though." Reminded his nonno in a sing-song voice. This brought a slight smile
to the German's face.
"Don't I fucking know it." Mumbled Romano. "He spent ages making gnocchi because they had
potatoes in them. Do you know what making gnocchi by hand fucking entails?!" Romano went into a
rant about rolling potato-dough and boiling and making ragoo and how usually there are only twelve or so
pieces of gnocchi per plate. All because Ludwig ate allot of potatoes. If that wasn't love, the Italian
didn't know what was. "The stupid bastard loves you."
Ludwig sat in bed reflecting on last night's events. A night full of hand-gestures, chatting, death
threats and gnocchi. What's not to like? It had actually gone quite well. Sure the family was
eccentric, terrifying and they interrupted each-other allot which made it hard to get a word in, but
they did genuinely care about the youngest member.
Tomorrow, Feliciano would visit Ludwig's family. The German had confidence in Feliciano's ability to
win people over but he gave a silent prayer just in case. Feliciano was religious, he would have
appreciated that. After all, his priority right now was Feli's happiness. Ludwig's life literally depended
on it.
END OF PART I
A/N:
There is a 'Romeo and Juliet' and an 'American dad' reference in here somewhere. Go find it my
pretties! (Or uglies, not everyone can be grandpa Rome!)
It was just kinda in my head for a while but I think it turned out okay. (If not a little long.)
I feel bad for putting in so many cusses.
*SHAMELESS PLEA FOR REVIEWS*
*SHAMELESS PLEA FOR FAVORITE*
*SHAMELESS PLEA TO NOT DROP THIS STORY LIKE A BABY GIRAFFE KARLOFF*
(That last one was a Tarzan reference)
Flames welcome as it gets cold in Ireland during the winter and ain't nobody got cash for oil!
My authors note is too long dammit!-C
Sorry about the awkward paragraphing but C's laptop was being uncooperative. Hope it isn't too awkward to read! ~M
Two stories in one night! You lucky ducks! ~C+M