Warnings for fic:
Death; including mentioned child murder, cancer, murder, and a death within the fic
Gore/violence; mostly mentioned or in flashbacks, description of fighting. Also guns and the mafia
Transphobia and homophobia; mentioned and in flashbacks, including the t-slur, and an incidence of accidental transphobia/ignorance. Also deadnaming
Child abuse; mentioned and in flashbacks
Religion; discussion of Catholic and Orthodox Christian beliefs, and religious extremism
Tense changes; flashbacks are usually in (brackets)
Casual swearing and some nsfw language
Characters this chapter
Jett Cook /Australia
Benny Scmidt /Luxembourg
Aldrich Beilchmidt (Vatti) /2p!Germania
Lutz Bielscmidt /2p!Germany
Sarah Jones (Mommy)
William Jones
Chloe Jones /2p!Canada (deadname)
Allen Jones /2p!America
Romeo Vargas /Ancient Rome
Lorenzo Cotello (Lutz's better half) /2p!Italy
The house is a tall, sweet place. Ivy up the wall, wooden doors and windows, slightly wonky stone chimney, the whole sweet shebang. A squat garage stands on one side of the house, and a swirled iron gate to the garden stands on the other. The driveway is long but narrow, and so Jett parked his truck up down the street, the previous homeowner's shiny-clean car still stood on the gravel, swirled iron gate stood open to let it out.
Benny heads out first, ever the smarter-dressed of the pair with his shirt pressed and waistcoat buttoned and shoe shined. Little old ladies think he's so lovely; 'A real hit with the lasses you must be, dear' (it never fails to make Jett giggle).
Benny knocks, and Jett saunters casually up the driveway as the homeowner answers. The homeowner is a soldier-straight man, a Mr Aldrich Beilschmidt according to the paperwork, with grey hair slicked back into a greasy ponytail. Tall, he seems to peer down his nose at the pair like they're dog shit he's unfortunately stepped in.
"Are you the builders?" he asks, accent vaguely German as he spits the words.
"Yeah, mate," Jett says.
Benny gives him a gentle smack in the stomach. "Benny Schmidt. This is my partner, Jett Kirkland. It's a pleasure to meet you," Benny puts a hand out to shake Aldrich's.
Aldrich looks at the hand, shakes it quickly and whips his hand away. "I have a plane to catch, let's not be here all day," he says plainly, turning on his heel and striding into his house.
Benny and Jett share a look, Jett mentally swearing Aldrich down, and follow him. The house follows a typical colour scheme; wine red, cream, black, and some gold for warmth. The carpets seem to have been plush at one point, but have thinned over the years, pale down the middle after being trampled. Pictures hang on every wall, three children and two men smiling down from every angle, only a few pictures of the woman who had lived here.
Jett stares at the photographs with a light frown. He isn't a man to frown often, an over-cheery attitude seeming to possess every lazy movement, every bright grin, and every gentle bounce of his step. He fits the profile of his profession well; skin gently tanned from long hours in the sun, shoulders broad and muscles developed in manual labour, hair and clothes messy.
"My ex-wife loved taking pictures," Aldrich says plainly as he leads them into the living room, "A ridiculous hobby of hers but there was no talking her out of it."
"Who's the other man?" Benny asks politely.
"Her ex-husband. Army man. Killed in action."
"Oh. I'm very sorry."
"Never knew the man. Never cared to. Do whatever you find fitting with the photographs."
"You're not taking any?" Jett asks.
"I have some of my son, a couple of my stepchildren and ex-wife. I don't need too many. I'm not a hoarder."
The kitchen is much less stately than the rest of the house, all brown tiles and wooden cupboards and ancient stoves. A man, clearly Aldrich's son, sits at the table playing a game on his phone, a backpack on the floor next to him. He had a similar long, proud face to his father, and the same arrogant posture. His hair is a soldier-short buzz cut, and his clothes, jeans and a wife beater tank, are less dignified than Aldrich's suit but still clean and tidy. He is built ridiculously, muscles over swollen and almost fake-looking.
"Lutz," Aldrich barks at him, "Finish showing the builders around. I have a plane to catch."
"Your plane isn't for another two hours, Vatti," Lutz groans. His accent is almost completely Canadian, confident in its drawl.
Aldrich responds in German, and Lutz groans harder. Benny glares coldly at the pair, flicking his hair out of his eyes. (Jett winces internally; Benny is usually incredibly self-conscious about his heterochromia. Unless, of course, incredibly angry. Or concerned about Jett's wellbeing. Or both.)
Aldrich bids the builders a forcibly polite English farewell, and leaves, dragging a large suitcase out from under the stairs.
Lutz stands. He's just taller than Jett, and he stares down at them as his father had, more arrogant than Aldrich's disgusted glare. He seems to smirk naturally, one side of his lips in permanent lazy curl.
"Vatti doesn't like to be late to things," he says calmly.
"Perfectly understandable," Benny says tightly, "We have the blueprints to the house anyway, so if you want to get away from the redneck and the gay boy too, you can just leave."
Lutz blinks at him, then laughs. "You'll have to forgive Vatti-"
"I don't think we will," Benny interrupts.
Jett sighs, and heads back up the hallway. "I'll bring the truck back up front."
"Vatti's not coming back to Canada anyway," Lutz says as the front door closes, "He hates it here. He only married Mommy so she'd look after me."
"I don't mean to sound rude, but I really don't care for your backstory," Benny says sharply.
"Look, I know what he said was out of order. I know your friend's not a redneck, I don't know if you're gay but whatever." Lutz takes a deep breath. "There's been a lot of issues with my stepsiblings, they both ran off and I didn't want to get kicked out too. Survival, y'know?"
"I said; I don't care for your backstory," Benny repeats.
Lutz sighs. "Just… whatever. Let me show you the garden and upstairs and stuff."
Benny doesn't respond, but follows him back through the house and up the stairs. The house is only three stories high, including the attic bedroom. The wine red theme stays on the stairs, landing and in the guest room. Aldrich's old room is minimalistic, only a bed and a now empty desk. His wife's room is larger, and slightly dusty with floral curtains.
The remaining room is a pink abomination. The walls are pink, the furniture is painted pink, the lightshade is pink, the curtains are pink and lacy, and even the ceiling is a pale shade of pink. A single baby doll, lacy frock dusty and hair matted, sits on the still-made bed. A neon pink dresser sits by the window, the surface faded after ten years of standing in the sun. Some makeup and a couple of bottles of nail varnish are shoved against the mirror, and a couple of photographs stand in seashell white frames in front of them. A rifle leans in the corner.
"This was Chloe's room," Lutz says, gesturing around, "She got sent off to boarding school because she was a troublemaker. She never came back."
"What do you mean 'she never came back'?" Benny asks, slightly shocked.
"I thought you didn't care for my backstory," Lutz says, smirk spreading.
"Honey, I'm home!" Jett yells, closing the front door behind him.
Lutz snorts with laughter.
"Up here," Benny yells back.
Jett heads up the stairs two at a time, finding Benny and Lutz. "Oh. You're still here."
Lutz just smirks and pushes past the pair, back onto the landing and heads through the final door and up another flight of steps to the attic bedroom.
"This was mine and Allen's room," Lutz says as Jett and Benny follow him.
The room is spacious, the two beds in the middle of the room with a small gap between. Lutz is able to walk around the middle strip of the room without crouching, the highest point of the room being about a foot above his head, the lowest a foot below. Boxes on wheels, now empty, sit under the bed and random sports equipment lines the edges of the room. Another rifle lays over the end of one of the beds. Framed photographs stand on the floor, just out of the way of the top of the stairs.
"Mommy always kicked up a fuss if Vatti tried to move Allen or Chloe's stuff," Lutz says, leaning on the rifle-less bed, "She was usually really timid and mouse-like, but not when it came to her kids."
"What about her ex-husband's stuff?" Jett asks, "Don't think I've seen any American soldier stuff. Except the rifles."
"Yeah, William. Vatti won on that one. The stuff's all in the shed. C'mon, I'll show you."
Lutz leads the pair back downstairs, through the kitchen and outside. The garden starts with a tiled patio outside the kitchen door, with a plain brick path cutting through the lawn to the shed. More rose bushes line the fence, and some plant pots of flowers stand on the patio. Behind the shed, the garden opens straight out into the forest behind it (and it all comes with the house. Benny wasn't sure how the house was so cheap with so much land to it, but Aldrich had been eager to leave Canada as quickly as possible.)
From the next garden, a man peers over the fence. Lutz sends him a wave, and the grey curls duck back out of sight and scarper inside. Lutz chuckles.
"That was Romeo. William's stuff's all in there," Lutz says, pointing to the shed, "All the actual gardening stuff is in the back of the garage. Like Vatti said with the photos; do what you want with it all."
"You don't want any of the photographs?" Jett asks.
"Nah. I got the digital copies and some scans, I haven't got the space for physical copies. The better half'd hate them anyway," Lutz says, "Everything I want, I've already got."
"So you have no reason to be here, then?" Benny says.
"Babe! Don't be fucking rude!"
Lutz just laughs. "Nah, it's good. It's not my house anymore. But, can I just ask a tiny favour."
Benny glares at him. Jett nods.
"If you hear from Chloe or Allen, can you give me a call? My number's on the paperwork. Please, I really want to see my siblings again sometime."
Jett nods again. "Yeah, we'll give you a bell."
Benny remains silent.
"Thank you," Lutz says, and smiles. For a split second he doesn't look like an arrogant douchebag. He's surprisingly handsome.
Jett walks with him to pull his motorbike out of the garage and around Jett and Benny's truck, and gives him a short wave as Lutz tears off, bag on back and helmet on head.
"I didn't like him," Benny says bluntly as Jett returns to the kitchen.
"Bit harsh," Jett says, "D'you want pizza?"
"Pizza sounds amazing. This kitchen's shit."
"Top priority, then?"
"Fuck yes."
AusLux was meant to be minor. I just put into a group chat "You give me a pairing who would be builders" and one guy answered with "AusLux" so I went "okay bro" and thus AusLux.
Sarah and William are invented OC's, not canon characters.
Story starts properly next chapter.
-Laurel Silver