DISCLAIMER: Hetalia: Axis Powers – Hidekaz Himaruya

THE TAMING OF THE SHREW

ACT III

SCENE I

PADUA

at Roma's villa, several days later.

Enter FELICIANO, LUDWIG (as Lars) and FRANCIS (as Francois).

Ludwig and Francis consulted the ticking clock on the mantle, then looked at each other in challenge.

"If you would be so kind as to allow me to tutor Feliciano first," said Francis, in a sharp tone of forced friendliness, "then you can finish your Latin lecture afterward, Lars. Music does soothe the soul, after all." He plucked a lute chord in example. "Let me soothe Feliciano, won't you?"

"No," said Ludwig starkly. "It'll be more beneficial for him to finish my Latin lecture first, before indulging in your silly music lesson, Francois."

"Surely you're roasting me," said Francis, forcing a stiff smile. "Music is the language of love and beauty, and the lute is the most beautiful of all instruments. Being so young and very beautiful himself"—he winked charmingly at Feliciano, who was waiting nearby—"I think it's rather befitting. All he needs is a little instruction, my instruction. I'm very eager to teach him how to handle my instrument," he smiled wickedly.

"Like you taught Lovino?" Ludwig countered icily.

Francis' smile fell. "Just let me go first, Lars."

"No, Francois."

"Excuse me, gentleman?" said Feliciano sweetly. "It being my lesson, shouldn't I decide which subject I want to study first?" He bat his long, coppery eyelashes prettily. "Please don't argue," he continued when he had acquired both men's full attention. "Francois, why don't you tune your instrument while I finish my Latin lecture? By the time you're... tuned, I'll be done."

"And I'll just be getting started, chéri," Francis purred in approval. "Very well. Enjoy your lesson, my dear."

Exit FRANCIS.

"Shall we continue where we left off yesterday, Ludwig?" said Feliciano slyly.

Ludwig wasted no time replying. He swept Feliciano into his arms and kissed him hungrily, revelling in the feel of soft, supple lips. He tasted sweet, like honeysuckle. A floral fragrance tumbled over him as he threaded a hand through the boy's silky auburn hair. Feliciano wrapped his arms wantonly around Ludwig's neck, pressing himself as close as he could, chest-to-chest, legs suspended off the floor. His tongue was slick and hot and tangoed with Ludwig's tongue in a heated dance. "Mm, Ludwig..." the boy moaned softly, his eyes half-lidded in contented bliss.

Ludwig had taken a risk in revealing his true identity to Feliciano and telling him of his and Lars' deception, but he was glad of it. For one thing, he hated dishonesty, and he had felt too guilty lying to such a sweet, innocent boy. For another, Feliciano had responded to Ludwig's truth by confessing his feelings for the German, which shocked him tremendously. I guess my flirting worked after all, he thought proudly. (Flirting had never been his talent.) The boy's confession had been so shy and flustered—his eyes downcast; gnawing gently on his bottom lip; hands clasped—the German hadn't been able to resist kissing him. Something animal inside him had awakened and his brain possessively thought: Mine. Feliciano is mine. He had cupped Feliciano's face and guided him into an experimental kiss; gentle at first, but rougher with the boy's encouragement. He had wanted to mark Feliciano, and Feliciano had begged for him to do so. It was hot and heady and urgent. Both of them had thrown caution to the wind and that particular lesson had ended with Feliciano perched on Ludwig's lap, his arms and legs wrapped around the eager German; both of them red-faced and panting; both of them uncomfortably aroused.

It was where they picked-up from, now.

Laying the boy down on a cushioned bench seat, Ludwig crawled over him, breaking a thin string of lingering saliva when their tongues parted. Feliciano was flushed and bright-eyed, his auburn locks tousled in a way that made Ludwig's heart pound. He lay sprawled on his back beneath Ludwig's body, his delicate hands resting on the German's broad shoulders. He looked like an angel: a ravished angel.

"Ludwig," he whispered, as if Ludwig's name was a secret.

Ludwig smiled lovingly. "Feliciano—"

"Master Feliciano?" called a servant suddenly. His voice summoned the boy from the other side of the study door. "Signore Vargas requests your presence at once," he relayed. "Tomorrow is your brother's wedding and Signore Vargas wants you to help him prepare."

Feliciano sighed. "I have to go," he said regrettably to Ludwig. "If I don't, he'll send an escort for me."

"I don't want to let you go," Ludwig said honestly. He stroked Feliciano's soft cheek gently in self-indulgence.

"I don't want you to let me go either," Feliciano confessed. Coyly, he leant up and pressed a sweet, chaste kiss to Ludwig's lips. "Later," he whispered. "I'll be waiting for you later, my love."

Exit FELICIANO and LUDWIG.