Disclaimer- Dont own hetalia
Note- Sorry its been so long. I have been busy and updated both my stories now. for a while FF wasn't letting me upload XD so here you are finally!
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Ludwig hadn't wasted a moment of light the next morning. While he had before plotted about his land in attempts to clean up, his work had simply been too massive to do much besides patch things up and leave half finished messes. Once the sky began to lighten, he was awake. His broad hands encircling the unsung alarm clock and shutting it off, looking over at Feliciano briefly. There wasn't a need for him to wake, so he let him sleep. Heaving up and flipping off his shirt, he grabbed one of his raggedy working sets of clothing and began to change. Hopping into the bathroom as he slipped each of his legs into the pants. Sliding the heavy fabric up to his waist where it sat perched on his hips.
He leaned over the sink, chest bare, rolling his head either way to look at the stumble that had grown over night. Should her bother shaving? His and drifted toward the straight razor nested away on the shelf along clean rags and a soap. Routine was routine and it seemed unsettling that his tried and true habits be violated without reason. He knew this was a bad way to do this as he soaped up his face. Lathering as well as he could. He flicked the blade out, its metal gleaming in the morning sun. Tilting his neck he traced the knife along his throat and curved around his sharp and defined jaw. The suds pooling over and dripping away with bits of blonde beard. The ripping sound of the blade as it dragged now from his chin to his cheek.
After a moment a smooth clean face emerged from under the grit. A splash of cool water and a whisking of a brush over his teeth and he was ready to go to work. As he slid that brush away he thought of his good fortune. Yes, they struggled for food, heat, clothing, but they still had some luxuries. A toothbrush, worn and frayed, but still useful. Yes, he had many things, a roof, towels, water, soap, shoes, and four walls. He didn't deserved them, he believed, but he had been bless anyway. He slid his shirt on and buttoned up. His family would not go hungry another night.
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When Feliciano awoke it was out of coldness, not choice. His body had curled up in its sleep but the temperature became too much. He rolled over, arm reaching out to feel the warm that was always there. The shadow from the window hadn't touched the bathroom door handle, so Ludwig should have still been asleep. But his hand fell to the mattress, a cold spot where his friends body should have been. He lifted himself up and looked around. Ludwig was gone and that haunting silence left behind. The sheer quietness made Feliciano unstable, he needed noise. Not a loud atmosphere per say, but just a little comfort of sound. The tap of a hammer or the mutter of German curses.
Rather than fall back asleep, the Italian decided to get up and start his hunt for food. Recalling the bare minimum in his pantry. He could not wait for spring, for the vegetables to grow, for a full stomach. All he could think of was food. Food, food, food, food, food! He peeked into Gilbert's room on his way down the stairs. The man was still sleep, a ghostly white, shivering a little. He pattered back to Ludwig's room and grabbed their blanket. Bringing it to Gilbert and flopping it over the conscious man. His shaking stopping, but white bros still frowned and face wrinkled with tension and stress.
Feliciano had just walked down the stairs when he noticed the locks undone. Freezing mid turn, hand around the decorative ball on the railing. Ludwig had left. Not just gone somewhere to repair something in the home. He was truly gone. Ludwig had rarely left, and when he did he always said so. It was a safety measure, to always have someone on guard.
Suddenly Feliciano's thoughts were shattered when a crack boomed through the house and property. The air from the man's lung fled his body. He winced and jumped a bit. Standing stiffly and on alert. His first thought was bomb. Bombing, there bombing us again, run! But the echo registered in his mind. A gun shot. It was a close one. Not in the clearing the house was in. The forest, perhaps up the trail.
Feliciano tipped into the pantry, slipping his arm behind the door and pulling out a slimmer rifle. It was pieces from other bits of guns. A mosaic patchwork of worn, dirt soaked wood and warn metals. It was light, simple, something Ludwig had made for Feliciano that even he could fire and handle. It was light, accurate, and almost idiot proof. Ludwig had even pre-loaded it for Feliciano.
The slim man cocked the gun. Hand shaking and clutching it. Who was shooting? Allied powers? Germans? Jews? Gypsies? Anyone could be, everyone was a danger. Feliciano stayed silent listening for anyone coming down the trail. Back braced to the corner against the window. No one could see him from outside or if they broke in. Again, a drill Ludwig installed in him during pre-war training.
His heart spasmed in his chest. The blood rushing to his head pounded in his ears. His lips stayed sealed shut to muffle his nervous vocal shivers. Then the sound came, the grinding of rocks and dirt beneath heavy boots. A heavy thump and straight bulling powerful stride. Is ears perked in recognition and the gun slacked down. The deep grunt and labored breaths so well familiarized with his brain, that the menacing sound was soothing. It was just Ludwig.
Laying the gun against the wall he arched up on the tips of his toes to see though the peep hole. Indeed, coming into the gate was Ludwig. He flung open the door and the leaned out, holding on by the door frame.
"Morning Ludwi-" Feliciano stopped himself. Eyes drifting from his friend who was covered in sweat and filth to what he was dragging along with him.
"F-f-food." Feliciano stood in shock. A small deer, a patch of redden fur above its eye. Faded spots on its rump, its young and thin. It is, however, enough food. Not only were animal hard to find, it was almost impossible to hunt them on foot. Forests near towns as they were had been hunted bare. Even a rat was hard to find. The songs of birds were rare. And prized meat such as deer, hog, bear, and cattle where perhaps only on a kings menu. Ludwig had found one however.
"She wasn't far. She was limping and I got lucky." Ludwig said, raising the animal up to inspect it. Feliciano took a step toward it. Hands out and just touched the fur of it.
"F-food." It was all he could get out. He had boiled everything out of the bones he had, every speck of vegetation was eaten, he didn't know what he would do today for food. His arms wrapped around it, only now did his hunger seem so bad as when food was in front of him. Clutching unto the still warm carcass he sighed, pressing his wet eyes into the dirty hide.
"Thank you,"
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Ludwig had been good at the art of butchering since he was young. Gilbert had always insisted on either doing meat cuts at home or from only the best butcher. Taught well, he had always been confident until now. He had saved the blood, it was no question, but other organs he had once thrown out now seems such a waste. So he sat on one of the yet-to-be chopped wood logs pondering which parts he could use. What about the eyes? Such tough cuts that he was never taught to do much with. Perhaps he could attract something with them. A bear or dog. Anything. The nose as well, nothing but a bait. It was the skin he couldn't decide on.
The doe needed skinning before anything else and as his knife worked at it he wondered. He could take the fur off and have Feliciano cut it into fine bits and dry for later food. Or he could use it as leather, which was also needed badly. And again, pelts for warmth were always required. He would tan it, it could always be traded. He scraped the fat off, collecting it in a bucket for Feliciano to melt down and can. Gilbert especially needed the fat as he was getting too thin. The door moaned as Feliciano pushed against it, using his shoulder to shove passed the rocks and dirt that wee laid against the bottom of the door. His tired eyes were overshadowed by a smile. They had food. He took the bucket of fat, knowing well what it's for. Hoisting up the bucket he rushed it back to the kitchen where a warm pot was waiting for it. His stomach gurgling and yelling at him as he scrapped every last bit of fat into the pot. Stirring as he watched Ludwig out the window. The tick fat melting and slowly becoming liquid.
The whole animal quickly became small cuts of meat. Some he immediately cut into slivers and hung to dry. The rest he began to pack and seal up. A majority of it would be cooked today and stored in cans, stews, soups, whole cuts, pickled, hashed, Feliciano started thinking of any and all ways he could can the food and still give a decent meal. The empty pantry soon became full to the brim with meat. Some whole muscles cuts for tonight to celebrate the kill.
Even Gilbert was jovial. He had requested a bit be dried for him to eat throughout the day. Ludwig had gone up with the leg and showed him the beautiful composition of the muscles. The elder brother nearly ripped from the younger's hands and clawed for the meat. It had been a long slow past few months. The meat seems to whisk that all away.
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The dinner table had been lacking manners for a while, and tonight the men reached a new record in savage eating. Feliciano's nimble thin fingers picked the tiniest morsels from his plate. His fork abandoned with the other utensils. His fingers were coated in broth and oil that he licked and even bit at to get specks of fat or grease from. The cut of meat still was on the bone and this did nothing to stop Ludwig. His massive hands curled and held the bone to his face as his teeth sliced through the meal. Tendons of his neck straining with pull to get every last possible edible thing off the pearly bones. When the flesh before him disappeared he gnawed along the bone, teeth running along the milky rod, and soon there was nothing but a perfectly clean cannon bone. Gilbert disregarded any previous trained politeness. The noises he produced from snorting, gulping, chocking, and salivating would kill most people's appetite. He had drooled on his chin and plate, face covered in the meat he had pestered Feliciano for, who had given in and gave Gilbert slightly more uncooked than safe.
Then there was a silence. Breathing and panting. Picking at the littlest suspects of food. Gilbert licking his plate and grabbing for his brother's only to realize Ludwig had beat him too it. It was a small amount, Ludwig had already rationed the food to last another 2 months. The cannon bones had been stewed and eaten this night. A whole cut of brisket and the rib cage was sealed in a barrel to make a crude smoker. That was their breakfast. Feliciano and Ludwig had agreed to take turns tending it in the night.
Gilbert sat, his stomach warm and full. His wounds hurt less, not in reality but because he had been happy. His desire to suffer in silence was subdued for a moment. To be with his brother and Feliciano at the dinner table gave him some peace. All of them remained quiet though. Almost as if in a high form the food. And the euphoria lasted well into the night. Gilbert had almost fallen asleep as Ludwig helped him up the stairs. Not a curse, swear or hex spit from his mouth. Laying down and immediately falling asleep. His injured leg like an anchor in a sea of sheets and blankets, keeping that leg down to one spot while the rest of his body attempted to flex and get comfortable.
Ludwig followed suit. Going into his bedroom he sat on the mattress, yanked off his socks, his trousers, and shirt. Throwing them from where he sat into the bathroom basket. The bull of a man was now lean and on the verge of being too thin. His stomach had a distension and he let the weight of it sink him unto his side. Blue eyes half lidded and staring blankly into the wall. Thick fingers fisting into the sheets and toes curling in comfort. Soon after, the glow of the lights soon stairs went dark and Feliciano's quiet steps pattered into the bedroom. As was his usual manner, he took off his shirt and threw it on the floor, his pants a wrinkled pool with the belt still attached.
"Ludwig, you're not sleeping in your-" There was a light snore that interrupted him. The pale blonde lashes on the younger's lids fluttered with a flinch, as if Ludwig was still aware of him, but he snored on. Feliciano thought it a tad peculiar that Ludwig hadn't bothered to dress in his night clothes, opting to sleep in merely his underwear. He blamed it on the food making Ludwig too relaxed to fight sleep.
Feliciano slipped under the covers. Eyes at Ludwig's back. A line of small sores was dotted around. Ludwig had always blamed them on the state of his country. The ugly mars left a series of scabs in their wake, some of which had turned to crusty skin that would flake and leave, hopefully, no trace.
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The next morning was overly bright and sunny. Ludwig grumbled as the sun radiated past his eyelids and commanded he get up. Like a child, he tried to fight, just five more minutes. Ludwig's metabolism was not accommodating to his fatigue. Once he was up, he was up. There was never a hope of the man falling back asleep until the night came. He did however indulge himself in the post wake up laze, where his brain rediscovered he had limbs and bones and that he could move. Each of his thick joints flexing and giving a moan as he blinked awake. He felt the feeling in his legs and arms return. Then another sensation.
He didn't need to look, the tightening in his groin always gave it away. The sheets shifting up and around his morning erection, curving slightly. He sifted on his side to shield it in case Feliciano woke up and saw. It had been a long time since he had gotten a full erection, probably killed from stress and lack of food. This morning he would have a good breakfast and with a full stomach to work on, he could actually get a decent amount of labor done.
He sat up, a looked out the window. Slowly the dead grass had begun to tint with greenish pale yellows. The mountains, still had snow, but now only on their caps and the rivers were high and fast flowing. Soon, or rather hopefully, the farms in the valley would start to tend their fields and grow some food.
A grumble came from the blonde's stomach. He scratched at his chest a little and sighed. The meat left smoking should be done by now, the outside thickly charred with a smoke filled chewy bark of-
Erection.
Ludwig's eyes had frozen when he looked over his friend to the bathroom. The smaller man was still asleep, but he had rolled over. His boxers that once fit snuggly against lean square hips were slack and loose from lack of proper weight. His morning glory had slipped from the cotton confines and swollen proudly in Ludwig's direction. The man was still snoring lightly.
What is that? Ludwig noticed Feliciano's erection, but it was tightly bound by his foreskin, refusing to reveal the head. He never saw such a thing, it almost looked painful. Without a thought or conscious choice his hand reached over and his index finger ghosted the very tip of the tightly scrunched foreskin. The his arm jerked back as if he had been shocked with a cattle prod.
What was he doing? Touching another man while he slept, how disgraceful. He scolded himself in his mind and heaved from the bed. Hurrying to the bathroom to wash his hands and get on with his day. The millisecond of touch still prompted up guilt. He had touch another man. Mind skittish from the time he lived in, such a thing was a… was it a crime? He lathered his hands with the old died up ration soaps. Cracking and flaking from the cheap haste in which they were made. His hands covered in a thick veil of suds. Scrubbing and cleaning beneath his nails and between the fingers.
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Ludwig had been quiet most of the day. Although he was happy, he was just silent in his work. His mind was busier than his hands though. While his arms glossed with a sweat finish that glimmered in the sun, his eyes were blank with thought. Saw biting away at the long piece of wood he was making into a new support beam. Once he set that up, he could work to finish the damage that was done so long ago to his home. His chest panted, unused to such work now, one arm straining to keep the board still, hair dripping for sweat and hanging into his eyes. A smudge of dirt on his left cheek from his suede work gloves when he reached to flick the sweat from his eyes.
His shoulders rolled with rhythmic sway, shirt off for comfort, every muscle coiled and flexed together. Feliciano stood in the ruined door frame. Watching, with a little envy. Ludwig could always be so handy. The saw would always bend and buck away from his smaller hands, so he was more bother than help or he would be aiding his friend. But staying out of Ludwig's way, Feliciano thought, was more helpful.
The chime of the phone interrupted his pouting and he reached over the couch. The phone slipped from the receiver and tipped over unto the table, Feliciano trying to grab up its cord before it fell. Giving a squeak of worry as the phone hit the floor. Reeling it back up, he held it gingerly too his ear.
"Beilschmidt residence," He said,
"I'm looking for a Herr Ludwig Beilschmidt?" There was a feminine voice on the other end. Cracking and fuzzy from the poor state of the phone lines, he had trouble hearing her.
"One moment," He set the phone down extra carefully, crouching be make sure it didn't hit the surface too hard.
"Ludwig!"
"What?"
"Phone call!" The sound of heavy boots thumping until inside, where the nails on the soles clipped the hardwoods echoed in the emptiness of the home. He thanks Feliciano and picked the phone up to his ear. Cringing at the sharp electric crackles and static.
"Ludwig Beilschmidt," His tone slightly darker and uninterested.
"Good day Herr Beilschmidt, This is the hospital your son is at." His eyebrows raise and his voice shifts.
"Is everything alright?"
"Well, the doctor would like a word with you in person to discuss some things about your son." She said softly, "He is having a bit of a hard time." Ludwig paused for a moment. His face slowly bleeding of color.
"When would he like me to come?"
"He is open tomorrow around noon or Friday in the evening around seven," She said,
"Tomorrow… Is he.. Is my son ok?" Nothing but static answered him for a moment. Then finally a voice,
"He's awake, if that's good or bad I am not sure,"
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Aiming to have the next chapter update soon 83
if you like R&R please
