A/N : FraGer. Some questionably not-quite-underage technically but very iffy I suppose?

LIGHTHOUSE

Francis had abruptly run into a very, very big problem in his life. A massive problem. An absolute Everest of a problem.

He was falling in love with his best friend's brother.

And it was not appropriate.

Gilbert was going to murder him, was going to absolutely rip him limb from limb if he ever found out that Francis had been fantasizing about his little brother. Holy hell, couldn't even fathom Gilbert's wrath. Would have absolutely slaughtered him.

Whew.

Probably not the only one, either; the cops might have wanted to have a quick word with him as well, if things went south.

Exceedingly inappropriate.

What the hell was the matter with him? Thirty-five years old and eyeballing a fifteen-year-old. Must have been knocked upon the head at some point, must have lost his senses.

Francis was very bold by nature, but this time he actually stopped and looked around at the situation and realized what a damn mess he could have so easily gotten himself into. So many complications from a legal aspect, notwithstanding all of the moral ones.

He could never have exactly explained how he had gotten to this point. It had seemed like such a normal, straightforward path.

He and Gilbert had been best friends since their first year in school, had clicked with each other right off, and had grown up always stuck together. They were both only children, they didn't live too far from each other, and so it seemed natural. Francis had been Gilbert's first friend, because their family had just moved to town from Germany, and it was Francis more than the school perhaps that had taught Gilbert French. Gilbert was albino, and the other kids had teased him relentlessly. It had never bothered Francis, and so they had drifted to each other.

The small town was on the northern coast, near the beach, and there was a very old, abandoned lighthouse that Gilbert and Francis loved to sneak into and play around in.

They grew older, and were always together as before, but this time to cause trouble. The lighthouse of theirs became no longer a plaything so much as an escape from their parents. They sat together and tried their first cigarettes there, coughing and laughing, and they would go there to drink together.

Years came, Francis straightened up just a bit more than Gilbert did, but only a bit, and would drink and stare out at the sea as Gilbert got high.

They loved each other.

At nineteen, they rented a flat together and became roommates, and were free to get into all the trouble they wanted.

And then they were twenty, and Gilbert came home one day holding a baby. Francis had leapt upright, in shock, and exclaimed, 'Holy shit! Who did you knock up? Why didn't you tell me?'

Gilbert had laughed for a long time, at Francis' expression, as Francis immediately came forward and cooed at the baby in a less than dignified manner. Gilbert looked proud, somehow, bolstered, and was quick to explain.

'Nah, man—my parents just adopted him! They miss having a kid, I guess. So. This is my new little brother. His name is Ludwig.'

Again, Francis asked, 'Why didn't you tell me?'

Adoption wasn't an easy process. Would have taken months, and Gilbert hadn't said a word.

'I wanted it to be a surprise.'

Sounded like Gilbert, and Francis had taken the child from Gilbert's arms and played with him a little before Gilbert snatched him back and carted him around. It had been so easy to see, right off, how badly Gilbert had always wanted a sibling. It was a little late, yeah, but Gilbert had gotten what he wanted all the same.

Francis hardly felt abandoned, because Gilbert frequently brought Ludwig to their flat and Francis played with him. Gilbert adored Ludwig, absolutely was taken with him, and they didn't go to the lighthouse anymore because Gilbert was always spoiling Ludwig.

Ludwig had platinum hair, very pale eyes, and Francis wondered where he had come from.

Years passed, Francis and Gilbert burst into adulthood quite nicely, but damn Gilbert got big! Same height as Francis but so much broader, so much stronger, and Francis was always a bit disappointed by that. Going to the gym was a natural response to Gilbert's wide shoulders, and with a bit of muscle the difference between them was less obvious. Whew—crisis averted. Francis was also very quick to let himself grow a bit of a beard, let his hair grow out, and Gilbert just rolled his eyes and teased him. When Francis' hair was long enough to tie back, Gilbert had retaliated by shearing his hair off almost entirely into a rather sort of military cut that made his cheeks and jaw really stand out. Damn.

Gilbert was more handsome, bigger, but the girls flocked to Francis because Gilbert was albino and therefore not exactly traditional. Gilbert didn't seem bothered, and was still perfectly able to get his own girls when he went looking, so Francis didn't feel bad. They knew when to give the other the flat, and had an understanding. They were perfectly in sync, and Francis had finally confessed to Gilbert that he was bisexual. Gilbert had seemed surprised, but waved it quickly off and had said, 'So what? I don't care. Just don't hit on me, eh?'

Francis had grimaced and pretended to retch, and Gilbert had punched his shoulder.

Francis loved that bastard.

But then they were twenty-five, and Gilbert's parents died in a car crash.

That was the worst week of Francis' life, seeing his best friend like that. Gilbert, so strong and arrogant and fearless, clenching Ludwig to his chest and crying into his hair. The worst thing Francis had ever seen.

Suddenly, Gilbert was the guardian of a small child. Francis had wondered if maybe Ludwig would go back into the system, if maybe Gilbert wasn't ready to be a father so much as a big brother, but the answer to that made itself very clear. Immediately, in fact, because when Gilbert had been signing all of the papers, the lawyer had suggested, with good intentions no doubt, that if Gilbert wasn't ready to take care of a child then the foster care system would be a good alternative.

The lawyer had a black eye when they left, but didn't press charges. Thankfully. Gilbert was a wreck, and the man had taken pity on him.

Gilbert snatched Ludwig up and never looked back.

Gilbert moved back into his parents' home, and the flat become Francis'. They still saw each other every day, and Francis helped out when he could, but Gilbert loved Ludwig so much and did a surprisingly great job of taking care of him.

More years passed.

Gilbert was incredibly protective of Ludwig, suffocating perhaps, and Francis watched curiously as Gilbert walked Ludwig to and from school every day, holding Ludwig's hand and not letting him out of his sight. Maybe Gilbert just remembered how mean the other kids were to him in childhood and was trying in some way to shield Ludwig from that, although Ludwig was quite the normal child.

His parents' demise may have made Gilbert a bit more overbearing than he would have been otherwise.

Ludwig was going to be handsome when he was grown, that was obvious. Had the look about him. Had those pretty eyes and that platinum hair. High cheeks, getting sharper every time Francis saw him. Was still rather homely now, child that he was, but there was potential.

How it had happened, Francis would never know. All he knew was that he had seen Ludwig one day, as he always did, and it had been life as normal. Ludwig had been barely fourteen. Lanky and gangly and awkward as all kids that age were. A bit plain. Almost as pale as Gilbert somehow, quiet and meek and very stoic. Ludwig had always been a strange child, far quieter than most and always so serious. Had never done anything at all to catch Francis' eye.

Didn't know what happened.

Just went to the city on vacation for a week, and when he came back, something had changed. It had only been a damn week—what the hell?

Gilbert answered the door when Francis knocked, and Francis had glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and balked, nearly asking, 'Did you dye your hair?'

A second glance, a blink, and it wasn't Gilbert. Had never seen this man in his life, and yet had known him for years.

It was Ludwig.

Holy shit! What the hell?

Francis' mouth had actually dropped in shock. Ludwig had absolutely shot up overnight. His legs had gotten so long that suddenly he was actually taller than Francis was, by a centimeter or two, and his shoulders and chest had broadened a bit. Not so gangly and awkward anymore; just rather lean, lithe. Was that a gleam of stubble on his cheeks? His Adam's apple was suddenly very prominent, his jaw seemed more square, his features sharper. His eyes were the only thing that hadn't changed, but seemed far more intense now, given that new face on which they sat.

Ah—that age.

Francis stared at Ludwig in absolute disbelief, because it was jarring, and Ludwig must have been self-conscious yet because he very quickly ducked his head, and asked, "Hey. How was your vacation?"

Whoa! Ludwig's voice had gotten deep, very deep. Oh man. Had known for a while that Ludwig would be handsome when he was grown, but Francis was actually surprised that Ludwig had come together quite that well. Certainly wasn't an ugly duckling anymore. Wasn't a swan now, either though. More like a damn eagle.

So Francis just raked Ludwig up and down, and replied, "Not as good as yours, apparently."

Ludwig's face tinted pink, and Francis walked inside. Ludwig was very quick to skitter off, and Francis went on the hunt for Gilbert.

Gilbert was sitting on the couch, flipping through channels, and Francis could see as soon as he sat that Gilbert's brow was creased and he looked very deep in thought.

"Wow!" Francis began, nudging Gilbert's shoulder. "When the hell did that happen, huh? I was only gone a week."

Gilbert nearly pouted, and certainly looked displeased.

A noncommittal grunt, a shift, and then Gilbert finally grumbled, "It sucks. I think I forgot he was actually going to grow up. I had to show him how to shave the other day. I almost cried. You hear his fuckin' voice? It ain't fair, man. I hate it."

Francis snorted, and spent the next few hours trying to soothe Gilbert's frazzled nerves, as Gilbert watched his beloved little brother come into manhood right before his eyes. Clearly it was upsetting to him, perhaps because Gilbert was dreading the day Ludwig would squirm out from under his wing and go off on his own.

Francis, for his part, just stared at Ludwig every time he passed, mesmerized.

After that, Francis came by every day, which wasn't anything new really, but now instead of spending all of his time with Gilbert he was suddenly and unexpectedly hovering over Ludwig. He and Ludwig had always spoken easily and casually, naturally, because Francis was practically Ludwig's other big brother, but Francis chatted Ludwig's ear off constantly now, because he liked the sound of Ludwig's new voice.

It was still in that stage of deepening, and often cracked, broke, and it was quite cute, because Ludwig seemed embarrassed by that. But then, Ludwig was embarrassed by just about everything, and so Francis just sort of swooped Ludwig up since Gilbert was still quietly mourning the loss of Ludwig's childhood.

Was captivated by this new Ludwig, and was aware on some level that Ludwig was highly attractive to him, but at first that notion was very muddled and not clear to him, because Ludwig was still in his eyes a child.

When Ludwig was fifteen, however, it finally seemed to come together in Francis' head, as Ludwig came more and more into himself, and it came to him in a rather rude and abrupt way. Had a damn dream about Ludwig one night, out of absolutely nowhere, and it was, ah...less than appropriate, to say the very least.

Oh, shit.

That day, when Francis saw Ludwig, he saw many new things he hadn't exactly paid attention to before. The little sunspots and freckles here and there on Ludwig's face and shoulders. The length of his neck. The little ring of gold around his pupils. The shape of his lips.

Francis knew he was in trouble, alright, because suddenly Ludwig was very beautiful to him and he was going to get himself killed for it. Couldn't stop staring, and eventually Gilbert would notice. Thought far too frequently of Ludwig after that, dreamt of him far too much, and wondered what, exactly, his chances would have ever been.

He was a handsome guy, right?

He had gotten a bit slack since he had been his thirties, and so Francis made a point of returning regularly to the gym. Not because he wanted to impress Ludwig, but rather because he wanted to have some sliver of a chance of survival if Gilbert ever found out that Francis was eyeballing Ludwig.

One spring day, however, a new development occurred.

Ludwig came to his house after school, and knocked on his door. Francis was startled to see him but also very excited, and quickly ushered him in.

"Hey! What's up? Need some help with homework or something?"

Francis was staring very intensely at Ludwig's pretty face, and Ludwig averted his gaze.

Ludwig shifted his weight back and forth, one foot to the other, restlessly, and then he finally said, in the deepest voice Francis had ever heard, "Can I talk to you about something?"

Entranced and very captivated, Francis nodded.

Ludwig looked quite uneasy, certainly nervous, and it was Ludwig's anxiety that gave Francis the willpower to put a hand on his shoulder and lead him over to the kitchen table and sit him down. Ludwig immediately rested his face in his palms, foot tapping away, and Francis waited patiently.

After a long while, Ludwig's pale eyes peeked at him from above his fingertips, and then he uttered, "I'm confused. I can't... I'm afraid to talk to Gilbert about it. I didn't know who else to ask."

Feeling very egotistical and very self-satisfied, Francis sat up straight, puffed out a little, and asked, "What's wrong?"

Felt very on top of the world, Ludwig coming to him of all people.

...Francis was the only one aside from Gilbert, granted, but still.

It was another long minute before Ludwig gathered up his courage again, and grumbled, very lowly, "It's just... Um. I think I might... Is it normal to— A girl at school sent me a note. She likes me. But I think I might— It's just, there's this guy—"

Ludwig trailed off, face blazing red and pupils dilated in what was obviously fear, and somehow, despite Ludwig's very disjointed and nonsensical explanation, Francis actually understood what Ludwig was trying to say.

Heart hammering and feeling oddly excited, Francis leaned forward and asked, so very carefully, "So, you think maybe you like boys instead of girls? Is that right?"

A swallow, a deep breath, and Ludwig nodded, looking so terrified that Francis actually felt pretty damn bad for him.

To ease Ludwig's mind as quickly as possible, Francis laughed, tried to make light of it, and said, "That's perfectly normal, Ludwig."

Ludwig sat up straight, inhaled, and seemed astounded.

A higher, eager, "Really?"

"Sure!" Francis said, eyeing Ludwig up and down without being entirely aware of it and possibly leering. "But you shouldn't have been afraid to tell Gilbert. He won't care. He loves you, you know?" Francis could have left it here, but felt the very odd need to throw himself out there, and added, "Gilbert didn't care at all when I told him that I like guys. We're still best friends."

A rather large hint Francis tossed out for absolutely no reason.

Ludwig looked quite awed, and certainly very relieved.

Francis had been certain, as he had walked Ludwig back home, that Ludwig kept on glancing at him. His neck was getting a cramp, way he was suddenly holding himself at perfect posture and flexing. Why not? Ludwig may have had a crush on some unknown schoolmate, but Francis continued to put himself out there.

It was very easy to forget, looking at Ludwig now, that he had watched this kid grow up right in front of him. On top of how he looked physically, Ludwig was just so serious. So quiet and stern and put together. With his new looks and that attitude, it was very easy to forget how young Ludwig actually was. Francis saw him more as twenty-five than fifteen, as a whole, and for that it was easier to feel less horrible about himself.

Francis become more certain every day that he wanted to act, wanted to give an effort, wanted to try his hand at Ludwig, even if Ludwig would have only liked Francis for a while. Ludwig was a child, after all, a hormonal teenager, and kids often had crushes on older people, teachers and whatnot, before quickly moving on.

Francis would have been happy had Ludwig merely held his hand for a while and leaned against him. A kiss, perhaps.

That was half of Francis' mind, at any rate. The other half was sheer unadulterated panic and horror, as he watched Gilbert from the corner of his eye and waited to be murdered.

Every time they made dinner together, Francis would look at the knife in Gilbert's hand and shudder. When they went fishing, Francis watched Gilbert cleaning a fish and knew that, with one wrong breath, it would be him that Gilbert was gutting. When Gilbert roughhoused with Ludwig, Francis would stare at Gilbert's huge biceps and cringe, because damn if there was no way he would have been able to free his neck from those hands once Gilbert clenched.

Dead man walking.

With that in mind, Francis stayed very still for now, and bided his time. When Ludwig was sixteen and therefore slightly less likely to get Francis locked up inadvertently, then maybe he would make a move, and risk being castrated and then decapitated by Gilbert. Ludwig was technically legal, granted, had been since he had been fourteen, but if Gilbert raised hell (and of course he would), then Francis was looking at the next ten years or so from within a cell.

No way.

He marked down the days on the calendar, impatiently awaiting Ludwig's sixteenth birthday. Goddammit, he felt like such a creep, but couldn't help it. It had become a bit of an obsession.

Francis did check in from time to time on Ludwig's relationship status however, nosily asking one day, "So, Ludwig! Have you told that guy yet that you like him?"

A blaze of red on Ludwig's face, and Ludwig shook his head.

Out of courtesy, Francis asked, "Why not?"

A low, anxious mumble.

"I'm afraid he won't like me."

Francis scoffed, and tried to assuage Ludwig's fears by saying, "Who wouldn't like you?"

A deeper shade of red.

Every month, Francis asked Ludwig if he had confessed to his classmate, and every month, Ludwig said 'no'. Francis was glad.

The very day Ludwig turned sixteen, Francis bought a bouquet of flowers, scribbled a note that sappily espoused Ludwig's beauty but left no signature, and left them at the schoolhouse, because he wasn't dumb enough to leave them on Gilbert's doorstep and risk Gilbert recognizing his handwriting. Had to rely on the lady in the office actually delivering them to Ludwig, and more so on her not being nosy and opening up the letter. Surely not...

He waited, impatiently. For what he couldn't say, but when the sun was starting to lower in the horizon, his phone buzzed. His stomach churned when he saw Ludwig's name.

A text.

'I'll be at the lighthouse tomorrow night, if you want to join me.'

Adrenaline rush, a little terror, and Francis had paced around furiously for a while, fretting and elated and scared and excited. Had Ludwig managed to deduce that the flowers had come from him?

Only one way to find out!

He didn't sleep at all that night, tossing and turning like a damn teenage girl and kicking his legs and waiting impatiently for the next evening.

Took forever, and Francis dressed himself very nicely, combed his hair perfectly, trimmed his beard as neatly as he could and used a new cologne, because he was really just a teenager too at heart, and then he gave himself a long pep-talk in the mirror before heading out to the lighthouse.

Ludwig was waiting, as promised, waving down at Francis from above, and Francis took a long scope around for Gilbert, just in case. Didn't see him, and Francis plunged in, scaling the spiral stairs with anticipation.

The sun was beginning to set.

When he reached the top of the lighthouse, Ludwig glanced over at him, and walked up to him. Was smiling, and that was quite lovely to see.

Francis just said, "Happy birthday, again. You and Gilbert have fun last night?"

"We didn't do anything," Ludwig said, looking Francis up and down. "He's waiting for this weekend."

Francis shifted his weight, nervously, and was just about to ask but was denied the chance when Ludwig opened his mouth again.

"Well! That guy I like."

Oh no—

Ludwig smiled, so prettily, and said, "He sent me flowers yesterday."

Francis' heart sank right down to his feet, and he knew that his face must have fallen, despite his best efforts to remain composed. Damn, did that ever hurt to hear. He had been stupid to put himself into this, yeah, he knew it, a kid like this. Knew better than to get emotionally attached to a flighty teenager, but it had happened all the same and hearing Ludwig mistake his gesture for someone else's stung.

Shoulda known better.

Weakly, Francis gave a short laugh, and said, "Well! See? I told ya. No one could not like you."

He lowered his eyes to the ground, and fell silent. He turned to the railing then, leaned against it, and watched the waves breaking down on the beach below as the sun grew orange as it lowered ever more. Felt quite devastated then, morose and a bit heartbroken, pitiful as it was.

Ludwig came over and settled in beside of him, so close that their shoulders touched. Didn't have the heart to look over at him.

A long, heavy silence, and then Ludwig said, "I don't understand why you didn't just sign your name, though, when you knew I would recognize your handwriting."

Oh—!

Francis inhaled and pushed off the railing, turning to face Ludwig, and opened his mouth in shock.

Ludwig leapt forward, threw his arms around Francis' neck, and kissed him, very awkwardly but certainly enthusiastically, before Francis could utter a single word. That alarm of terror went off in his head, as always, as he envisioned the myriad of ways that Gilbert was going to snuff him out of existence.

All the same, his hands flew out and grabbed Ludwig's waist, he kissed him back, because everyone died eventually, after all. For all he knew he was already dead and this was all some final hallucination, because it was quite surreal when he found himself sitting cross-legged and staring out at the sun setting over the sea, Ludwig's head rested there on his shoulder and their fingers intertwined.

The happiest he had been in a long time, be it wrong or right.

Ah, hell.

Ludwig was worth getting murdered for.

He'd gladly be Ludwig's teenage crush.