A/N : RomGer. Sassy Ludwig is best Ludwig, and mobster-wannabe Lovino is best Lovino.
MARS
Lovino had been a troublemaker since the day he had been born, had been aggressive and confrontational and belligerent. Liked to fight, liked to cause a ruckus, liked to break rules, liked to get into every possible kind of trouble known to mankind. Had his little gang, his own guys and his own streets, and ruled them accordingly. Lovino was the worst.
And so it had always flabbergasted Lovino that it was always Feliciano that ever got into real trouble, when Feliciano was the straight arrow. Well, mostly; Feliciano had one very bad habit, but it was really kind of Lovino's fault.
Feliciano loved to gamble, and he always lost.
For the most part, Lovino had been able to get Feliciano out of trouble over the years. Feliciano was taller than Lovino was, but Lovino was by far bigger, far stronger, far rougher, gruff and obviously quite violent. Scars everywhere from fights. Feliciano was the man someone would want their daughter to bring home; Lovino was the man that every father had nightmares about.
Lovino usually just showed his face, put his cigarette out on someone's shirt, and most of Feliciano's debts were taken care of in reasonable portions.
Until that one time, when Feliciano had taken it too far.
Feliciano just knocked on Lovino's door one day, and when Lovino had opened it Feliciano was on him in a second, arms around his neck and hugging him as tightly as he could. Took Lovino a dumb second to realize that Feliciano was actually crying.
What the—
Lovino pulled back in alarm, as Feliciano cried away, and Lovino finally managed to ask, harshly, "What the hell is the matter with you? What did you do now?"
Feliciano reached up, ran his palms wearily over his face, and Lovino could see how damn tired he looked, as if he hadn't slept in weeks.
After a moment of gathering himself, Feliciano said, in a rough voice, "I just came to say goodbye, man. I love you, Lovino. You're a dick, but I love ya. I fucked up, and now I'm dead. So I just came to see you one last time."
With that, Feliciano hung his head and started crying again.
Startled and confused, Lovino reacted in the only way he really knew how, and reached out to slap Feliciano's cheek, not hard at all, just to snap him out of it. He grabbed Feliciano's shoulders, gave him a good shake, and said, "What the hell! Stop cryin'! You're a man; you should only cry when you're in love. Knock it off. And then tell me what the fuck is going on, 'cause you don't make any sense."
A long minute of Feliciano rubbing his eyes, but he did pull it together, stopped crying, braced himself, and stood straight and tall.
A deep, thick, "Right!"
Lovino led Feliciano inside, sat him down at the table, and Feliciano started yammering.
"I got into trouble. I, uh— I went to, uh, Napoli a few months ago. You know me, I got a bad habit. I kinda got in over my head. I lost all night, in a bad way."
Lovino twitched, because he had almost slapped Feliciano again, but stopped himself at the last second, because, well...it was kinda his fault, really. He and his mobster friends had been the one to get Feliciano hooked on gambling, so maybe he couldn't really fault the dumb bastard all that much.
Feliciano's foot was tapping, furiously, as he carried on, "So, I um. I was a little drunk, and I wasn't thinking straight. Next thing I know, I'm out twenty grand and I didn't have anything, so I put up my fuckin' house, can you believe it?"
He did slap Feliciano that time, and not gently.
Feliciano took it, because he had deserved it, and met Lovino's eyes, opening his mouth to finish before Lovino could go on a rampage.
"Well, I lost again, and there went my fuckin' house! I was crying in the lobby. This guy came up to me and asked me what was wrong, and I told him, and— He walked away. I couldn't— He came back a while later, and told me that it was taken care of. I didn't know what was happening. The next thing I know, he's handing me a piece of paper with a number on it, and said not to worry about it. To call him around the end of March to see if I was ready to pay it back."
Lovino hung halfway out of his seat, shoulders braced and waiting to see if Feliciano was about to earn another slap or this time a punch.
Feliciano squinted his eyes, sniffled a little, tapped his fingers on the table, and said, "So I went back inside, and asked. That guy fuckin' paid off everything, all of it. The whole twenty thousand. So, um, so I asked the man who the guy was, if he knew him, and he laughed at me. Said, yeah! Everyone knows that guy. He's the White Death! Can you believe it? A fuckin' name like that? I nearly passed out. I ran outta there as quick I could. Oh—! Lovino, I'm fuckin' dead! How the hell can I pay that guy back? He knows where I live now, what with my house there on the damn bill. It's almost the end of March. I'm broke! I'm fucked, Lovino. The White Death! You know what's gonna happen to me, with a name like that? I'm dead, man. I'm so dead. He's waiting on me to call, and I ain't got nothing for him! I'm dead."
With that, Feliciano hung his head and tried hard not to break into tears again.
Lovino sat back down, stunned and dazed, and stared at his stupid brother for what felt like hours.
Feliciano had done a lot of dumb things, but Christ almighty, never had he done something so unbelievably stupid. He was right—he was dead. The kinda guys around here, the guys Lovino hung out with, the guys that hung around casinos like that, waitin' to pay off some drunk guy's debts.
Feliciano was dead, alright.
A surge of fear, overriding the anger.
Lovino was so shocked and taken aback then that he couldn't even rage at Feliciano, couldn't even stand up and start screaming, couldn't find the energy to punch him in the face. Just sat there and stared at him, and felt lost.
Hours later, Feliciano collapsed on Lovino's couch in exhaustion and fell asleep, and Lovino sat there at the table and tried to figure out what the hell they could even do. Couldn't just run; they'd be runnin' forever, always jumping at shadows, waiting every day to be whacked, and that was no way to live. He didn't have enough to pay back that loan, no way, and neither of them exactly had good enough standing to just pull out a random loan of that size. Lovino was good at scaring people, but even he knew there was no way in hell he would ever be able to intimidate someone called The White Death. Good god!
What could he do?
He sat there, drumming his fingers on the table, and plotted.
Had to be a way out of it, just had to be. Couldn't stomach the thought of his stupid little brother getting murdered because of a bad habit Lovino had thrown him into.
Days passed, and Lovino wracked his brain.
What he eventually came up with, unbeknownst to Feliciano, was probably the stupidest goddamn thing that had ever crossed either of their minds :
Getting a ransom.
Lovino had done very illegal things in the past, some more violent than others, but he sure as hell had never kidnapped anyone. It was the stupidest thing he could have done, more likely than not, and Lovino kinda figured that he would eventually just get both himself and Feliciano killed.
Well! Feliciano's mess, wasn't it, so their demises would be on his head, not Lovino's.
The idea Lovino concocted was very stupid, but theoretically plausible. The Austrian ambassador to Italy was an extremely well known figure here in this small town, because this was where his vacation house was, and he came every single weekend to lounge about the town and spend money. Everyone loved him, naturally, for the tourist coins. Well—to be more accurate, the ambassador's wife spent money, as he usually stood beside of her and crinkled his nose, their son often with them and always trailing behind them silently.
That man was certainly made of money, more than enough to pay off what Feliciano owed that guy, and so Lovino figured he may as well kidnap the ambassador's son and get a good ransom out of him. Knew it would probably fall through, knew he would probably just get killed by the cops, but the deadline was approaching.
And goddammit, Lovino hated Feliciano, thought he was the stupidest son of a bitch on Earth, but he fuckin' loved him, too, so much, and wasn't gonna just sit there and let him get whacked for being a moron. Would at least give effort, would at least try, would give it his all.
So he started following the ambassador around every weekend, observing his wife and son. Thought more about kidnapping the wife, because it seemed like it would have been easier at a glance, but she was always arm in arm with him and the son often wandered about alone.
So the son it was.
The more and more Lovino followed him, though, the more he wondered if he really was their son after all, because he was so pale and blond and they were not.
Ah, didn't matter.
Lovino started stalking the son, and well! Damn. Sure was gorgeous. A good word maybe, if not a bit stupid.
Certainly was a looker, that was for sure, as Lovino tailed him silently from a distance. Tall, very blond, pale as could be and eyes very blue. Rather fit, plenty of lean muscle through his thin shirt, and Lovino had been a bit taken aback. Pretty hot, actually, and Lovino's eyes were very unabashedly on those long damn legs as he slunk behind the blond in the shadows.
Did those things go all the way up?
Not the worst waste of his time to be sure.
At least, that was, until it actually came time to kidnap the bastard, and then he went from gorgeous to obnoxious really quick. In a blink, actually.
After a good long stalking and gathering up routines, Lovino stood out one night, gun in his pocket and ready to act, feeling terrified and jittery and exhilarated.
Feliciano was gonna be the death of him.
Lovino waited on a solitary street that led out of town and back towards the house of the ambassador, and he stood by his car and waited and waited, phone held against his ear to pretend he was talking to someone for when the target in question finally came.
A half hour later, he was in sight, and Lovino started shifting and shuffling.
The man passed him, and Lovino put his phone away. They were alone on the street and the time was right, so Lovino pulled his gun, rushed up from behind, and darted in front of the blond bombshell, blocking his path.
A very offended huff, and the blond eyed him testily up and down, seemingly oblivious to the gun, and attempted to sidestep Lovino rather curtly.
Hey—!
Lovino blocked him again, and this time reached out with his left hand to press it in the blond's chest to force him to a halt. Could feel that muscle alright, and it was damn nice.
Er...
"Come with me," Lovino said, very gruffly and very threateningly.
A scoff, and then the man looked Lovino over again and said, in a very deep voice that almost startled him, "Do you mind? How rude!"
That voice kinda didn't fit that pale kid, but it was as nice as everything else. Lovino tried hard to refocus, and shoved the blond back a pace.
"Get in the car. Now."
The blond glanced over his shoulder at the said car, lifted his brow haughtily, and then said, as he turned back to Lovino, "I would rather not, thank you."
With that, he tried once more to step around Lovino, and was once more blocked.
What part of this was not being understood?
Lovino waved his gun in the blond's face, and said, harshly, "Do you not get it? Are you stupid? I'm kidnapping you."
The blond lifted his chin very primly, hip thrown out and hand resting atop it, jaw set and brow low, and then he merely said, so primly, "No, you are not."
Lovino's mouth fell open.
What the...?
"Yes, I am," Lovino snarled, as he pressed the gun suddenly into that broad chest, and the blond glanced down at the gun, and gave a very offended little gasp.
"No," he repeated, as he reached up to swat the gun irritably away, "You are not."
Lovino raised the gun again, stubbornly, pressed it harder into that chest, and griped, "Yes, I am. Christ almighty, I get that you're a blond, but hell! Get it through that empty head a yours. Move. Now."
Dumb blond alright, if ever he had seen one. Had to be the pretty ones, didn't it?
Another offended noise, and the blond once more swatted away the gun and tried to sidestep Lovino.
Unbelievable!
This time, Lovino snatched out and grabbed a fistful of the man's shirt, forcing him to a halt, and he pressed the gun into his stomach. "Get movin'!" he hissed, as he tried to drag the blond along. "Do what I say or I'll shoot you."
The blond squirmed and writhed in his grasp, trying to break free, and said, huffily, "No you won't! You just said you were kidnapping me. Which is it? Are you kidnapping me or shooting me? Make up your mind already!"
Son of a bitch.
The blond broke free, lifted his chin, and began walking away, and Lovino rolled his eyes, tucked his gun back in his pocket, and knew it was time to get real. So he ran up behind the snooty bastard as he walked away, braced his legs and clenched his fists, and he sucker-punched the blond on the back of the head, knocking him out rather efficiently.
Damn, though, if that hadn't hurt his knuckles.
A quick look around, and Lovino merely dragged the jerk over to his car and stuffed him in the backseat. That sure as hell had been harder than he had imagined. Already off to a bad start.
Why didn't anything ever go right for him?
When the blond came to in Lovino's house half an hour later, the first thing he said was, in a whining gripe, "How—how dare you!"
Lovino, sitting on the couch, watching the dazed man below him pulling himself up at the waist, just rolled his eyes and waved a hand in the air. Hardly intimidating, as the blond winced and rubbed the back of his head, pushing his lips out and looking so cranky. Looked so utterly inconvenienced, as if Lovino had rear-ended his car or something and made him late to a meeting. Sure as hell didn't look like a man that had just been violently kidnapped.
Lovino stared at him for a while, and then uttered, just as crankily, "Sorry, there, princess. Didn't mean to hit you that hard. You coulda just did what I told you to do, and it woulda been easier."
A sharp glare, as the man looked around and gathered his bearings, coming around and looking very alert suddenly. A long study of the house, and then his pale eyes fell on Lovino. Palest eyes he'd ever seen, now that he was able to pay attention. Pretty. Intense, though, and those eyes raked him up and down relentlessly. A prim lift of an eyebrow, and the blond huffed a sigh.
At long last, the blond truly spoke to him, chin held high and seemingly unbothered by his situation, snipping, so snootily, "Now, I don't mean to insult your obviously illustrious intelligence, but you do know who I am, don't you?"
Lovino's brow quirked up, not so much by the insult but rather by how well put-together and neat the blond's words were. Was obviously very well-educated, intelligent, and Lovino merely scoffed and said, as he looked the man up and down, "Hm. Guess you're not such an airhead after all."
A face of offense.
Could certainly tell this one had been raised by a rich ambassador, alright.
Before the little jerk could say anything else, Lovino snitted, "Of course I know who you are, you dumb priss. Why the hell did you think I kidnapped you in the first place? You think I just go grabbing people at random and see what happens?"
"Wouldn't surprise me," the blond drawled.
With that, he plopped back onto the floor, arms lax at his sides, and stared up at the ceiling. Lovino used the opportunity to run his eyes over that nice chest and long legs. Why not? May as well look while he could, before he inevitably got gunned down by the damn cops when everything went to hell.
Had very little faith in this plan, and apparently his victim did, too.
The blond turned his head sideways, scrutinized Lovino, and asked, "May I go now?"
"No."
A narrowing of those pale eyes and a look of irritation.
"Well then," came the snippy response, "You could at least show some manners and introduce yourself. Invite me to sit down. Offer me something to drink. You know, typical etiquette when you have a guest over."
Lovino just stared at him, condescendingly, and didn't utter a word.
The blond made a noise of displeasure, and said, "My name is Ludwig, if you didn't know. And you are...?"
"Not a chance," Lovino snapped.
"Rude," Ludwig chided.
A short silence, and then Ludwig sat up at the waist again, and once more raked Lovino up and down with those sharp eyes. Could have sworn, for just a moment, that the dumb blond might have actually cracked a little bit of a smile.
Anxious and scared but also very egotistical, Lovino sat up straight, squared his shoulders, and tried to look as big and intimidating as possible, tried to puff out and look stern, because someone very good-looking was giving him an eyeballing.
Eh, he was probably dead before the end of the night, so may as well flex a little and do a little ogling in turn.
Ludwig seemed content enough to stare, not scared at all, the jerk, and before long he pulled himself to his feet and collapsed down onto the couch right next to Lovino. So closely that there was hardly a gap between them at all.
Well, damn!
Lovino sat up ever straighter, reached up to smooth back strands of his hair that had fallen loose in his tussle, and glanced frequently at Ludwig as Ludwig stared at him very intently.
...what was happening again?
Ludwig's pale eyes lowered to his chest, he seemed to be observing Lovino's chest hair poking out of the top of his open collar, and then his eyes drifted downward. Lovino was squirming a little under that prying gaze, and yet sure as hell wasn't exactly complaining.
Ludwig twisted at the side, crossed his legs neatly, and lowered his voice into an exceptionally seductive rumble when he uttered, "Pity you chose the criminal route. I think you perhaps could have made a living in the movies. I can very easily see you playing some Mafioso in a film. You do have that look about you."
Lovino opened his mouth, and lost his voice.
Ah...
At his silence, Ludwig continued his very serious staring, quite overwhelming in his intensity, and he added, "So, then. What exactly are your plans with me?"
That tone of voice very nearly made Lovino blush, and Lovino couldn't remember the last time he had blushed.
Lovino sat there, stupidly, staring at Ludwig and swallowing compulsively, and then he heard himself utter, gruffly, "I, um— I forgot what I was doing."
Hadn't meant to say that.
Ludwig lifted his chin, appearing very perfectly deadpan serious, and uttered, "You really should try to be a bit more professional. I do detest when people don't give their very best efforts to their tasks. Discipline, after all, is the true backbone of society."
Lovino stared at Ludwig, a bit distracted by his handsome face and how close he was leaning forward, and grunted, "Forgive me. I ain't never kidnapped anyone before."
Shit! Hadn't meant to say that, either.
Ludwig lidded his eyes, looked Lovino up and down yet again, crept a little closer, and practically purred, "How lucky I am. I feel positively unparalleled."
Caught in those eyes, Lovino just swallowed again, and said, so dumbly, "How the fuck is your Italian better than mine?"
Ludwig snorted, and reached out to bump the tip of Lovino's nose with one of his long fingers.
"The perk of being raised by the ambassador to Italy, I suppose. Being more intelligent than you also gives me a bit of an advantage, as well. No offense."
Stupidly, pathetically, Lovino muttered, "None taken."
Could feel the warmth emanating from that well-built torso, and that pretty face got closer and closer every second, and damn, he woulda done just about anything to—
Wait!
No, no, wait, hold up.
Lovino leapt to his feet very abruptly, blinked rapidly in an effort to clear his head, and backed up to put a good bit of distance between them. He wasn't stupid; this jerk was just tryin' to seduce him so he could get the hell outta here, so he could escape.
No way. Feliciano's life hung in the balance.
Ludwig seemed rather disappointed at Lovino fleeing from him, and stood up quite gracefully. Without being entirely aware of it, Lovino's eyes once more flew to those long legs and then back up. Was he in over his head with this one? Seemed like he was in over his head.
Ludwig took a step towards him, and said, calmly, "You never did tell me your name."
Lovino opened his mouth, and choked again.
Couldn't seem to remember what the hell he was even doing.
A sudden ringing of a phone then, and it was clearly Ludwig's. Ludwig pulled it out of his pocket, glanced at it, and Lovino snatched it quickly away, and saw Roderich's name there. Ah, that was it! Right! Kidnapping this asshole. Perfect! He scrounged his gun out of his pocket, pointed it at Ludwig, tossed him the phone, and said, harshly, "Answer it! Tell him you're in trouble and that you need him to send you some money."
Ludwig merely stared at Lovino through lidded eyes, very bored now from the look of him, and it was with a huffy sigh that Ludwig answered the call, drifting over to sit down on the couch as Lovino followed him with the gun.
"Hello?"
Lovino waited, bristled up with anticipation and fear and adrenaline, and Ludwig suddenly leaned back into the couch, saying, "Yeah! I saw that there. I was gonna take a picture and send it to you. I thought you'd like it. It would make a good gift for Erzsébet."
Lovino's mouth dropped open.
Ludwig's voice was so casual, so unbothered, and he reminded Lovino very much of a schoolgirl then, splayed on the couch and chitchatting carelessly with his friends. Didn't even care about the gun pointed at him at all.
Ludwig laughed, and said, with a slanted smile, "Nah, I'm fine. I'm with a friend. ...nah. I'll probably just spend the night."
Furiously, Lovino pressed the gun into Ludwig's neck, leaning down and hissing, "Tell him! Now!"
Ludwig narrowed his eyes and swatted the gun away yet again, the look on his face very much that of a teenage girl, alright, and it clearly said, 'god, dad, I'm on the phone, go away!'
This little punk—
As he repeatedly shoved the gun away from his neck and head, Ludwig gave another laugh, and then said, far too happily, "Okay. I will. ...alright, I will! Promise. Don't worry. Okay, see you later. Bye. Yeah. Love you, too. Night."
With that, Ludwig hung up the phone, leaned back into the couch, arms behind his head, and turned to look at Lovino.
"Well," he said, with no hint of worry. "It would appear that I'm your guest tonight. Maybe be a little more courteous, mm?"
Oh, how Lovino hated this man.
Lovino grabbed his gun in both hands, pressed it sideways into his forehead as he groaned in absolute frustration, and when he finally opened his eyes a minute later, Ludwig was ever staring at him.
"Feeling alright?" came the very unconcerned inquiry.
Lovino wasn't certain then if he wanted to cry or scream.
Probably both, and he tucked the gun once more in his pocket, went into the kitchen, and sat down at the table, head in his hands. What the hell was he really doing? He was clueless, he really was. Didn't exactly have the heart for this. Was in so far, well beyond his limits.
He had just wanted to save Feliciano.
A step on the tile, the scrape of a chair, and Ludwig was suddenly sitting there beside of him, perpetually gazing at him and very, very unafraid of his entire situation. Lovino just rested his chin in his palm, and glowered silently at this pain in the ass.
Unbothered, Ludwig suddenly leaned over, very close to him, and smiled just a little. More of a leer, really.
"Forgive me," Ludwig said, lowly and sultrily. "I don't get out very often. Between Roderich and my brother, I'm never allowed to go anywhere or meet people. I do get so bored. Locked up all the time, you know."
Ludwig's index and middle finger walked their way up Lovino's shirt as he spoke, as Lovino sat there dumbly, jaw clamped and swallowing. When Ludwig used those long fingers to undo the first clasped button of his shirt, Lovino woke up, inhaled, and jumped up from the table.
"Hey!" he barked, commandingly. "Knock it off! I ain't that stupid. You're not getting out of here so easily."
Ludwig's eyelids fluttered in annoyance, he sneered, and Lovino tried to clear his head and refocus.
"Oh," Ludwig drawled, blandly, "I do believe you are that stupid. All brawn, aren't you. Good thing you're so handsome. I could have gotten out of here several times already had I wanted to."
Bullshit.
Handsome, eh—
No, no, wait. Stop it.
Before Lovino could start bitching, Ludwig added, prissily, "I mean, come now. Let us think this over. You kidnap me, in a very disorganized manner may I say, you bring me to a house that is very clearly either yours or a family member's. So, no secrecy there. On top of that, your phone is very clearly your own, what with that case on it. So any calls you make are going to be very easily traced, and right back here. That gun, too, is probably legal and registered in your name, because if you were too stupid to not buy a new phone then why in god's name would you bother with a new gun, and then let's talk about the biggest issue of all : that you seriously and honestly thought a man like Roderich would part with any amount of money and just lay it out on the street for you. I can assure you, having been raised by Roderich, that he would go through hell and back not to spend a single coin on this nonsense. He'd rather just call me and tell me to get myself out of this mess than give you money. Of course, with me being of rather high importance, if only through Roderich, the police would find you in a second, because you are, to put not too fine a point on it, entirely and hopelessly incompetent. Did I forget something? Oh! Yes. The spot where you kidnapped me from has many cameras hidden up under the gutters of the buildings. Because Roderich comes here so frequently, he requested that all streets leading to our home have coverage. For his peace of mind. He's a very paranoid man. So, of course, your vehicle will be there in plain sight as well your face. There. Satisfied?"
Lovino stood there, utterly annihilated.
Whew, talk about a crash to reality.
And it hurt like hell, too, because it was like watching Feliciano slip right through his fingers, and all anger faded in that moment into an awful flash of despair. His face crumpled, he inhaled sharply, bowed his head, and it took all of his strength then not to dissolve into tears.
Had let the little bastard down again.
A long silence, as Lovino foundered, and when Ludwig spoke again, his voice was a very deep rumble, quite soothing, and much gentler.
"Why are you doing this? What brought you to this?"
Lovino shook his head, momentarily unable to speak.
Ludwig stood very still and very silent, waiting for Lovino to compose himself, and when Lovino finally lifted his heavy head, Ludwig tried, ever softer, "Are you in trouble?"
"Not me," Lovino finally managed, roughly. "My brother."
"What did he do?"
Lovino stumbled over to the sofa and threw himself down, as Ludwig stood over him.
Felt so damn dumb.
"He owes a guy a lot of money. He's gonna get killed if he doesn't pay it back."
"How much money?"
"Twenty thousand Euros."
A noise of interest from Ludwig, who rested his hand on his hip.
"Indeed. To whom does he owe it? Do you know?"
Didn't know why he was bothering to even tell Ludwig. Maybe just to relieve some of this awful stress.
Lovino shook his head, grumbling, "I dunno his real name. Some guy just paid off his debt and then gave him until the end of this month to pay him back. Down in Napoli. I don't know who he is. Just some guy called the White Death. Pfft—fuckin' name like that."
He glanced up at Ludwig then, and was startled.
A long look of absolute shock. Silence.
And then Ludwig suddenly threw his head back and burst into helpless laughter, very loudly and very sincerely, and Lovino was already pissed off. Ludwig couldn't stop laughing, wheezing and eyes watering, and Lovino watched him crankily, shaking his head and shifting his weight.
What an asshole. Hated this guy. No matter how hot he was.
Ludwig laughed for a very long time, and when he could speak again, as he wiped his eyes and rubbed at his chest, all he said was, "Hey, I know that guy."
Lovino wrenched himself up to his feet, that rush of desperation rising up, and he grabbed Ludwig by the arms to shake him very enthusiastically, crying, "No shit! You really fuckin' know him? Huh? You really know that guy?"
Was positively bristling, praying to god that if nothing else maybe Ludwig could talk that guy into at least not murdering Feliciano.
Ludwig watched him, smiling breathlessly yet, and didn't seem bothered by Lovino trying to shake the life out of him.
Ludwig glanced down at Lovino's hands gripping him, back up, and said, far too casually, "Oh, yes, I know him very well. We grew up together. He's my brother."
Oh shit—!
Lovino fell deathly still, gawking at Ludwig in what very well could have been horror. Paralyzed then, shocked and stunned, and Lovino wondered if he was being had. The other son of the Austrian ambassador, a deadly loan shark? That didn't make any fuckin' sense at all, none, but Lovino was too dumbfounded to find his voice to ask questions.
Ludwig was suddenly reaching out and grabbing his shirt, and that time Lovino was just too stupefied to really pull away from him, and hell, why even bother? He had been entirely defeated, had no upper hand whatsoever, and this entire venture had been stopped short. Ludwig had him where he wanted, which was strange because this entire thing was Lovino's plot. Had been turned into a captive by his own victim.
Ludwig gave Lovino a more sincere smile then, and suddenly rumbled, soothingly, "Don't worry about it. Consider it taken care of. Nothing is going to happen to your brother. On my word. I know how to handle my own brother."
A rush of adrenaline.
Elation.
Ludwig tilted his head a bit, narrowed his eyes and scrutinized Lovino, and muttered, mostly to himself, "For such a jerk, you did go through a lot of trouble. I suppose we put up with a lot for brotherly love."
"You have no idea," Lovino uttered, gruffly, as Ludwig looked him up and down, his hands still clenched in Lovino's shirt.
Suddenly...
Lovino realized that he had absolutely nothing to gain, and nothing more to lose, and if Feliciano wasn't gonna be murdered then fuck it, this guy was comin' on to him strong and was extremely attractive, and he didn't see the point in wasting the opportunity.
He pulled Ludwig in until they were chest to chest, and Ludwig perked right up, smiling quite widely and obviously feeling self-satisfied, quick to turn his hands instead to yanking Lovino's tucked shirt out of his pants and underneath. He fell back onto the couch, still gripping Ludwig's arms, and so Ludwig had no choice but to fall right down with him. And no resistance whatsoever was offered, naturally, since Ludwig had been hitting on Lovino the entire damn night.
When Ludwig was straddling him and Lovino was breathing through his mouth, he finally thought to ask, perhaps snidely, "So, you must be hard up, huh? Comin' on to a guy that knocked you out and kidnapped you."
Ludwig was very unbothered by the jab, and tossed back his own.
"If you call this a kidnapping! I think of it as more of a pity lay, as you've failed in everything you've tried."
That stung a little bit, and he clenched a fist up in Ludwig's hair and gave it a very painful twist.
"Think I'm the one about to perform a pity lay, since you can't keep your hands offa me. Pretty sad."
Ludwig hissed as Lovino tried hard to rip his hair right out of his head or snap his neck, and managed to gasp, "Then stop talking about it and do it already. Talk, talk, that's all you seem to be good for!"
Lovino scoffed, way too warm and feeling extremely uncomfortable beneath squirming Ludwig, and he said, in a bit of a daze, "What are you on, and where can I get some?"
Crazy bastard! Took some kinda piece of work to try to seduce the man that had kidnapped him. Knew that some people liked danger, liked the 'bad boys' as it was, but damn was this ever taking it far. By all rights, he shouldn't have been complaining.
...he really wasn't complaining, at all, because Ludwig suddenly grabbed his face and kissed him.
This kid had some nerve, for sure, and Lovino hated that but was also very seduced by it.
Needless to say, Lovino was only a man, and men were easily led astray. Feliciano seemed fairly safe, if Ludwig's word could be trusted, and so Lovino clung to that hope and threw Ludwig backwards onto the floor. Knocked the wind out of him, but that was better because he couldn't squirm away when Lovino crawled on top of him.
As if he would have, from the way Ludwig had been coming onto him.
Surely enough, Ludwig was very cooperative, very placid and very willing to let Lovino do as he pleased.
That was a fun hour or two, Lovino clenched in the vice of Ludwig's long legs and running his hands over firm muscle. Still had a bit of charm about him, apparently, to get his hands on this one. A good ego boost. Had to have appealed to Ludwig in some sense, be it physically or for his violence. That, or Ludwig really was just that hard up.
Probably should have dragged that hour on a lot longer, because it was only a few minutes after Lovino had collapsed atop Ludwig that Ludwig opened his mouth and started tearing Lovino apart again, if not more gently.
"By the way," Ludwig uttered, as he ran fingers through Lovino's damp hair, "You did all of this for nothing."
Lovino pulled back, and grunted, "Huh?"
Ludwig's condescending, soul-crushing sneer was rather painful.
"My brother is harmless. He's a Kriegsmarine! Who did you think he was? He's never hurt anybody."
What?
Lovino's mouth fell open, his brow crinkled and his eyes widened, and he sputtered, dumbly, "Bullshit! Never hurt anybody? No one gets called the White Death for no fuckin' reason!"
Ludwig gave a little laugh that Lovino was so certain was a giggle, the bastard, and waved him off, drawling, "He's a marine. He's also albino. His battleship docked once off of South Africa. There were quite a few great whites out there, and the first thing Gilbert did when they disembarked was to go cage-diving with the sharks. The other men teased him that the sharks thought he was one of them, because he's so white. So, they just sort of called him that afterwards. He's a jerk, just like you, and so of course he loved it. The White Death! Ha! Silly, isn't it?"
"No, it's fuckin' terrifying," Lovino griped, irritably, pushed up on his palms to glare down.
Ludwig was unbothered, as always, and reached up to tousle Lovino's hair until it was sticking out every which way.
Lovino tried to murder Ludwig with his eyes, failed, and instead grunted, "So! What the hell is he doin', then, scaring the living daylights outta dumbasses like my brother? Who the hell pays off that kinda money without being dangerous? Huh? Makes no sense."
Ludwig ran his hands down Lovino's chest, very effectively diffusing his annoyance, and said, "I mean no offense, naturally, when I say this. But we're exceptionally lucky to be very well off. Twenty thousand Euros is a rather paltry sum for us. Gilbert saw someone in need and decided to be a good guy. For once."
Not entirely sold on Ludwig's brother's innocence, Lovino asked, "So then why did he give his number to my brother and tell him to call him at the end of this month, huh? If he's such a white knight."
Ludwig gave a quick noise of thought, hands ever running over Lovino, and then replied, "Growing up, Roderich always taught us that if we ever were to give someone money that was far worse off than we are, then to always do so with the suggestion that of course one day it will be repaid, even if we don't expect it to be. He said that it spares a man's pride, to be given a loan rather than a handout. So that's what we've always done. Gilbert of course would never expect to be repaid such a sum, but let the offer stand. Apologies if your brother misunderstood so terribly. It certainly wouldn't have been Gilbert's intent. He just wanted to help and didn't want your brother to have a wounded ego."
Well, shit. Feliciano had always been stupid, so that really shouldn't have surprised Lovino at all.
Still. Seemed like a very grand act of charity. Maybe Lovino was just an asshole with no love of humanity, but he just didn't get it, and said as much.
"I don't get it. Why would he help someone like that in such a big way, huh? You two just like to go around playin' Robin Hood or something? Your dad can't be too happy about shelling out all'a that money."
Ludwig snorted.
"Indeed! He's not. Needless to say, it's a very rare occasion. Your brother must have been very pitiful indeed, to illicit sympathy from Gilbert, of all people."
Well, that was fair. Feliciano was actually exceptionally pitiful.
"And," Ludwig quickly added, "Gilbert and I were adopted by Roderich. Our parents died, and Roderich took us in. He didn't have to. So, sometimes, Gilbert and I try to help other people, too. Roderich hates losing money, but he's a good man and knows why we do it."
Meh. Buncha jerks.
Lovino rolled off of Ludwig, sat there for a while, and felt kinda dumb.
Ludwig stood up and wandered off, searching for the shower, humming the entire while, and Lovino heaved a great sigh and testily dressed himself and plopped face-first on the couch.
Hated that jerk, but was damn grateful for him.
Now he just needed to threaten Feliciano's life himself, to make sure the great goddamn idiot never went back inside of another casino ever again. Would chop his damn hands off if he had to.
He drifted into sleep for a while, exhausted from his arduous ordeal, as Ludwig took over his house and ransacked his cabinets. Eh. Let the bastard do what he wanted. He hated saying he owed the creep.
Morning came before long, and Lovino sat up and looked around and realized what a damn idiot he actually was, when he pondered back over the prior night with a clear head and full understanding. Ludwig peered at him from the kitchen table, coffee in hand, and very happily chirped, "Morning!"
Lovino grimaced.
Lovino thought about picking up the phone to call Feliciano and tell him that he was not, in fact, going to be murdered, but when Ludwig started eyeing him up and down again and left the kitchen behind to begin creeping over, Lovino cast the idea out of his head and just let Ludwig straddle him. Let the bastard squirm a little. Deserved that, for being stupid.
He had better things to do.
Ludwig, in particular.
Ludwig wrapped his arms around Lovino's neck, and said, rather smarmily, "Well, I know how I'll be spending my weekends down here now."
"Ditto," Lovino grumbled.
Hated this man, absolutely, and wanted to see him again for it.
Every once in a blue moon, Feliciano was useful.