A/N : DenGer. My headcanon Denmark is an asshole obsessed with Shakespeare, and nothing any of you can say or do will ever change that. ):/
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Ludwig had always been fascinated in a way that so many countries still had monarchs.
Living right on the line with Denmark, it sometimes tickled Ludwig to walk across the border for an outing and think to himself that he was no longer in a democracy but a monarchy. Knew of course that it wasn't truly that way, but it was fun to say all the same. Amusing, to think of himself being under the rule of a king, regardless of how much power that king may have had.
The Danish royal family was utterly unknown to Ludwig. Didn't know their names, aside from the King himself of course, and didn't know what they looked like.
Ludwig had yet to see a royal, from any country, and yet he had come close once, surely, because one day he had been sitting outside a café on the Danish side of the border and had heard people whispering and talking about the Prince walking nearby. Ludwig had looked up, naturally, but didn't know what the man looked like and simply couldn't be bothered to get up and actually put in effort to find out.
Gråsten Palace was quite nearby, and so it wasn't anything unusual down here in the Jutland to have one of the royals strolling about, although Ludwig was under the impression it wasn't a very frequented palace. As if he knew anything about them.
Lost interest after a while, turning his eyes back down to his book.
Shortly after, he wandered off into the streets, mindful of the snow and ice on the sidewalk. As he often did in his evenings, he made his way to his favorite bookshop. A little place, two levels, and he always sat himself in the chair by the window that overlooked the sea. He stayed there for an hour or two and read, speaking to no one and rarely looking up. He picked books that lied towards the classical end of the spectrum, sometimes Homer and sometimes Shakespeare, sometimes Plato or Aristotle, Hugo, and then at other times he would peruse the books on history, war, science and engineering. Depended on how he was feeling.
No one ever bothered him.
That night, however, he seemed to attract someone's attention.
A movement before his eyes, as someone sat down on the loveseat against the window, next to Ludwig's chair. Ludwig didn't glance up, because people sat there all the time, and thought nothing at all about it until a low voice uttered, "What's your favorite?"
Ludwig lifted his eyes up over his book, to see a man sitting there, looking at him. Assumed he was looking at him, anyway, given that he was very absurdly wearing sunglasses indoors. Splayed out there on the loveseat very arrogantly, legs spread and arms folded behind his head, his entire stance oozed smugness and ego, and for an awful moment Ludwig thought that Gilbert had dyed his hair dark blond and had come to torment him a little.
Sure as hell sat just like Gilbert did.
The position of a man who was feeling very confident and self-satisfied.
Ludwig just grunted, dumbly, "Huh?"
The man inclined his head to the book in Ludwig's hands.
"Shakespeare. What's your favorite?"
Oh.
Feeling his stranger-danger alarm going off, the one Gilbert had beaten into his head as a child, Ludwig shifted anxiously and finally managed to grumble, "Titus Andronicus. I guess."
He meant to leave it there, but the man just scoffed a little, arms yet behind his head in lofty casualness, and after a short second he said, in a rather handsome voice, "'We will solicit heaven and move the gods, to send down Justice for to wreak our wrongs.' Good choice. I'm sick of people saying Romeo and Juliet."
...huh.
Was rather jarring, to put that smarmy stance to someone who could so effortlessly quote Shakespeare from memory. Two things that didn't seem to go hand in hand. Gilbert surely would never have been caught dead reading Shakespeare, and had a gun been pressed against his head Gilbert would have read one line and then thrown his hands in the air to say, apathetically, 'Just fuckin' shoot me.'
Guess some arrogant jerks had a little class.
Ludwig sat there silently still, uncertain of what to do or say, and at his helpless look the man sat up straight and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"What?" the man finally asked, pryingly. "You want me to leave you alone?"
Yes! Could hear Gilbert's voice in his head, he swore it, like he was fifteen again.
'Goddammit, Lutz, you're gettin' too cute, that's a problem. You gotta watch out for people, man, they're gonna be creepin' on ya. Don't ever fuckin' take a drink from a strange guy at the bar or else you're gonna wake up in the back of some truck—'
Ugh. A little much, actually.
Ludwig looked the man up and down, and then said, a bit primly, "Forgive me for being cautious. Only a certain type of man wears sunglasses in winter indoors."
A barked laugh, rough and rather charming, and the man reached up, pushed his sunglasses up onto his head, and Ludwig could see him clearly for the first time.
Oh dear—certainly a remarkably handsome fellow. Wow. Come to think, could possibly say this was the most handsome man he had ever seen in his life. Taken aback and rather speechless, Ludwig just stared, and the man stared back at him.
Very pretty eyes, deep blue and with very heavy lashes, jaw strong and chiseled, nose very straight and narrow, chin covered with light facial hair. His hair was messy as hell, but everything else about him was very neat and very well-kept. His sideburns were immaculately trimmed. His clothes were expensive and well-pressed. His shoes shined.
That watch on his wrist must have cost a fortune.
Gorgeous, actually.
Was this guy an actor or something? Would explain not only the exquisite looks but also the sunglasses.
Feeling very self-conscious and sub-par and bland, Ludwig shifted his weight, and sat up straight, book clenched up in his lap. Stranger-danger became a little less potent, shallow though that may have been on his part. He was only human, after all, and handsome and intelligent was always a winning combination.
The man looked Ludwig up and down, clasped his hands atop his knees, and drawled, "Better?"
Ludwig tried to appear aloof and uninterested, although he kinda was interested, and turned his eyes back down to his book, with a pert, "I suppose."
A snort.
What was he supposed to do? Make conversation or something? He wasn't good at that, was utterly inept, and the man kept on looking him up and down and making him squirm.
When Ludwig failed to offer a word, the man tried, "You come here a lot?"
Lifting a shoulder anxiously, Ludwig grumbled, "A few times a week."
The man smiled a little, rather charmingly, and tried to direct conversation as Ludwig continued to be very difficult.
"Your accent is cute. You German? Live on the other side of the border?"
Ludwig nodded.
The man's smile grew wider, as he seemed to enjoy the challenge Ludwig was providing rather than being put off by it.
"Say. You have some free time? Wanna go have a drink?"
Ludwig was very torn. Half of him very much wanted to indeed have a drink with this gorgeous guy, and the other half of him wanted to run away screaming. In the end, cowardice took over, and Ludwig said, weakly, "I can't. I was about to head home soon."
The man's brow lifted, and Ludwig stood up, put his books away, and fled very quickly.
Considered it done and over with by the time he walked back home and trudged inside, where Gilbert was lying on the couch and watching the television. A glance at him, a sudden feeling of melancholy, and Ludwig momentarily regretted that he had refused. Felt then as if he had missed a once in a lifetime opportunity, a guy like that, and hated that it was Gilbert's constant warnings that may have swayed him.
Oh, well. Too late.
Ludwig went about his business, as he always did.
Three days later, he went back to that bookstore without a second thought, because it was habit. Never thought he would see that guy again. He took his usual spot, this time with a book on aeronautics, and huddled up.
His shock was profound when someone plopped down there beside of him on that loveseat, and he glanced up to see that same guy from before, smiling away. This time, his sunglasses were already perched atop his messy hair, and Ludwig gawked at him in awe.
"You do come here, then. Good. I was waiting, but you didn't show for a few days. Thought you were avoiding me."
As the man had spoken, Ludwig had subconsciously lifted his book up quite defensively, until only his eyes were visible from atop it. They were likely quite wide, and the man was suddenly very nearly sneering at him, stance as arrogant as it had been the last time.
"So!" he asked, as Ludwig peered at him. "How's a drink sound today? Do you have more time?"
Because he had regretted not accepting the last time, and also because he was slightly flattered in spite of the fear, Ludwig thought about it for a moment, and then just nodded his head.
The man lit up a little, and happily reached out his hand, "Great. I'm Magnus. Nice to meet you."
Ludwig lowered the book, took the offered hand, and grunted, "Ludwig."
Magnus. Magnus was every bit as handsome as Ludwig remembered, dressed just as nicely, everything about him screaming 'expensive', and yet he still hadn't combed his damn hair, and that was irritating Ludwig on the most basic of levels. Wanted desperately to grab a brush and pounce on Magnus furiously.
"So, Ludwig. There's a little bar I like right down the street. Shall we? I would not wish any companion in the world but you."
Ludwig narrowed his eyes a little, mistrustful and suspicious as he always was, and griped, "Are you going to quote Shakespeare at me all night?"
Magnus was kind of a jerk at a glance, but attractive. In hindsight, he shouldn't have recognized that line, perhaps, because Magnus smiled very widely, seemed ever more bolstered and eager, seemed more intent and focused.
Magnus was certainly bold and outgoing, had no shame at all, apparently no lack of confidence, and when Magnus pulled himself to his feet, he offered, so smoothly, "Well, it's usually served me pretty well. But hey—just so we're clear, and there's no misunderstandings, because I like to avoid those now when I can; I am interested in you romantically, not as a bar buddy. So if I'm barkin' up the wrong tree, lettin' me know now would be kinda nice, so we don't waste each other's time."
Cut right to the chase, Magnus.
Ludwig's face blazed furiously red, and he couldn't hide it with his book this time, helpless and exposed under Magnus' gaze. He stared up at Magnus silently, a bit terrified and overwhelmed, but also holy shit—
Dumbly, Ludwig nodded again.
Magnus quirked a brow, raised his hands out at his sides inquisitively, and prodded, "Yes I'm barkin' up the wrong tree, or yes you'll have a drink with me?"
Oh.
Ludwig pulled himself clumsily to his feet, pinned down by Magnus' pretty eyes, and finally fumbled, pathetically, "No, I'll— I'll have a drink with you."
Magnus' smile looked rather triumphant, and Ludwig realized right off he was likely in over his head with a bold man like this. Magnus began walking, and Ludwig had no choice then but to follow.
The bar Magnus apparently liked was underground. Dimly lit and rather cozy, all things considered, and Magnus was very quick to huddle up at a little table in the corner, back to the door, and hunker down, leaving Ludwig trapped in the corner up against the wall.
Escape wasn't exactly high on his list of priorities.
When the beer came, Magnus loosened up, and began his interrogation.
"So, you just like to spend your free time in Denmark, Ludwig? Like it better here than in Germany?"
Ludwig chugged his beer as quickly as he could, in desperate need of liquid courage, and managed, "I don't know. It's just different, I guess. I like using a different currency. It sounds stupid, but it's kinda fun. Going into a monarchy right next door, you know. I can walk a few minutes and go back in time a little."
Magnus snorted, and made no comment on how stupid Ludwig's fancy for foreign currency and kings may have been. Rather, Magnus said, "Fair. Guess we're used to it. So. How old are you?"
"Twenty-five."
"What do you do for a living, if ya don't mind my asking?"
A twinge of unease, embarrassment, as Ludwig's eyes fell briefly to Magnus' very expensive watch and clothing.
"Nothing special," he grumbled. "I work in a bakery."
Magnus' brow lifted, he gave Ludwig a very intense look-over, and then he laughed.
"Didn't see that coming! You kinda looked like a cop to me, firefighter maybe. Nice. Well, before you bother asking; I'm thirty-two, and I do a little of this and that, here and there. I come down here for a few months a year, but I live in Copenhagen for the most part. I like it down here more, though. Especially now."
Magnus really knew how to get to the point of things very quickly, and Ludwig rather liked that, because it saved him the small talk.
Still, Ludwig did pry, "This and that?"
Magnus ran a hand through his messy hair, waved it casually, and said, "You know. A little public relations here, a little humanitarianism there. Stuff like that."
Hm. Vague.
Ludwig, nervous still, offered, "I thought maybe you were an actor or something."
Magnus seemed very flattered, and splayed out arrogantly as he had there in the shop. Ludwig resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
They drank for a while, getting to know each other a bit, and when their faces were red and they were feeling the beer, Magnus rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward to say, very eagerly, "Wanna go out again tomorrow night? We don't have to drink. We can go for a walk or something. I'm ready for the second date."
Ludwig squirmed, blushed, writhed, and very pathetically nearly squeaked when he said, "Already? The first date isn't even over. You don't want a few days to think about it? Decide if you like me?"
"I already like you," Magnus said, without missing a beat.
A rush of adrenaline, ego, vanity, and Ludwig might have been smiling a little.
"A little quick, don't you think?"
Magnus leered over at him, eyes lidded with tipsiness, and after a long search of Ludwig's equally red face, he drawled, so smarmily, "Ah, yeah, but who ever loved that loved not at first sight?"
Ludwig did roll his eyes that time, scoffed, and grumbled, "You're a showoff, aren't you?"
"You have no idea."
The rest of the night passed in similar fashion, with Magnus showing off extra hard, and then Magnus walked him to the border. They exchanged numbers, parted ways, and Ludwig went home smiling away.
Gilbert was waiting for him at the kitchen table, and seemed relieved when he showed up.
"There you are! You're late. You're never late. You didn't answer my text."
"Sorry," Ludwig slurred, as Gilbert eyed him suspiciously. "I had a drink with a friend."
"First of all," Gilbert chided, "That's more than one drink. Second of all, you don't have any friends, you little bastard. What are you up to?"
Ludwig waved protective Gilbert off, and escaped him.
God knew Gilbert would pitch a fit if he knew Ludwig had been asked on a date by some weirdo that wore sunglasses indoors. Didn't want that lecture now, because he was feeling pretty happy.
The next day, after work, Ludwig called Magnus and they met up at the border. They walked through the town and then down to the sea, chatted for a few hours, and Magnus reached out frequently to shove at his shoulder amicably, but probably because Ludwig blushed every time and Magnus liked seeing him squirm.
Gilbert was waiting for him again that night, once more eyeing him suspiciously, and Ludwig's inability to stop smiling had Gilbert on high alert.
The third date, Magnus took him to a nice little restaurant on the second level of a building, overlooking the sea. They sat and chatted, as always, and Ludwig looked down at his phone to see a text from Gilbert. He snorted when he read it.
'You better not have a boyfriend you asshole. Send me a pic of where you are or I'll come looking for you.'
Oh, Gilbert.
Gilbert was a pain in the ass, and Ludwig went through far more trouble than he should have to rearrange the table and shove Magnus far out of view when he took a nice picture of the table in front of the sea. Magnus found it amusing.
The fourth date was in a café, on a Saturday afternoon. They had lunch there, as always tucked into the corner. Magnus seemed to love the corner tables, and always sat with his back to the door. Guess he liked his privacy, and Ludwig understood that so never questioned it.
For being so bold and domineering, though, Magnus had yet to really lift his hand, and they hadn't kissed yet. Ludwig found himself rather disappointed, because he sure as hell wasn't making the first move.
That day, there was a little excitement, as Ludwig played with his coffee.
Snow was falling very heavily outside.
Whispering suddenly.
Ludwig heard a girl gasp, from the other end of the café, "Look! The Prince!"
Indeed? Ludwig perked up instantly, scanning the café with intense interest, because of course everyone wanted to see a royal face to face at least once in their lives. Something to brag about, however stupid it may have been.
Of course, Ludwig didn't know what he was looking for, because he didn't know what the Prince looked like, and after a useless scope, he leaned across the table to place his hand briefly atop Magnus' to grab his attention.
Magnus snatched his hand instantly, like a spider on a fly, and held it there atop the table. Ludwig blazed red, and momentarily forgot what he had been doing, as Magnus' large hand was very warm.
When his brain started working again, he asked, "Which one is the Prince?"
He turned his gaze above Magnus' head, waiting for Magnus to follow his eyes and pinpoint the royal apparent, but Magnus seemed hardly interested, and merely grunted, "I dunno," without once releasing Ludwig's hand.
Ludwig frowned a bit in disappointment, but was distracted easily enough when Magnus leaned forward and muttered, eagerly, "Hey. Wanna hang out with me tonight? I like all these dinner dates, but I'd kinda like a more private one, if it's all the same."
The Prince nearby was instantly forgotten.
"Sounds great," Ludwig said, and Magnus seemed relieved.
When Magnus put back his coffee as quickly as he could, however, very silently urging Ludwig to hurry up, Ludwig did find it odd. Odder yet was when Magnus was suddenly leading him out of the café and back onto the street, into the raging snow, sunglasses down again.
Eh. Weirdo, alright.
"I have a little apartment nearby I rented. Wanna come over for a while?"
Ludwig nodded.
Magnus perked up, happily, and that time he reached out and slung his arm over Ludwig's shoulder.
That rush was powerful.
Ludwig was so distracted by Magnus that he no longer watched where he put his feet, and very promptly paid for it by slipping on the ice and nearly planting face-first on the sidewalk. Saved by Magnus at the last second, as he snatched out and grabbed Ludwig by the arm and waist to hold him steady. Had seen his damn life flash before his eyes for a moment there, and would have been more embarrassed if Magnus hadn't been smirking away at him like that.
"Falling head over heels for me, huh? Yeah, I saw that coming. Good thing I was ready."
An awful burn on his face, and Ludwig very quickly straightened up and shook it off, lifted his chin, and carried on, neatly ignoring Magnus.
Oh, dear god in heaven—!
It occurred to Ludwig then that he was essentially dating Gilbert, and he honestly didn't know how he felt about that. Dear lord, was going on dates with a carbon copy of his pain in the ass big brother. What the hell did that say about him? Something wrong with him, surely, for ever being remotely attracted to this arrogant, pompous, egotistical, self-centered jackass.
If Magnus and Gilbert ever came face to face, would the universe shred apart? Would some vital part of existence itself be torn apart at an atomic level? Was he just overthinking this?
Gilbert was an asshole, and so was Magnus, and Ludwig realized that he was a dumbass for being attracted to Magnus, but it was kinda late for that. Had already started looking forward to seeing Magnus, and had no plans of stopping anytime soon, regardless of Magnus' assholery.
Magnus put his hand on the back of Ludwig's arm for the rest of the walk to the apartment, and Ludwig didn't complain but pretended he was too good to be excited by that. Even though he was.
The apartment was rather normal but very bare, all things considered, which made sense if it was temporary, given Magnus' apparent residence in Copenhagen. Did have a very healthy supply of beer, however, that he wasted no time in pulling out.
Ludwig felt quite comfortable and safe then, in a private setting and away from the world. Was happiest alone, and it was nice not to be surrounded on all sides by people.
Magnus dramatically pulled out a chair at the kitchen table, and Ludwig glared at him a little but sat anyway, because that was the polite thing to do.
They drank and chatted, as they often did now, and Ludwig turned his phone onto vibrate so that Gilbert wouldn't bother him. When the sun had set and night came, they were both quite tipsy, but smiling away, and Ludwig hoped, more than anything, that now that they were alone perhaps Magnus would finally make a move.
After a while, he did. Sort of.
Magnus leaned forward, grabbed Ludwig's hand, and said, with a bit of a slur, "Now, I know ya think I'm kind of a dick, and I might be—"
"You are," Ludwig affirmed, but gripped Magnus' hand drunkenly in turn all the same.
Magnus' smirk was a little sloppy.
"Yeah, right, I am, fair, but what I'm tryin' to say is, I like ya, ya know? I like ya a lot. I kinda wanted to ask, maybe, if you'd like to go for a relationship or something. I guess I'm kinda traditional. I don't really like to have a bad reputation, ya know? People already think I'm a player, but I ain't tryin' to be, ya know? I just don't have good luck with boyfriends. Go through 'em too quick. Fuckin' microscope over me all the time."
Overbearing parents or something?
Traditional—pfft. Was that why Magnus hadn't kissed him yet? As hard as it had been to glue together Magnus' arrogance with his love of Shakespeare, it was also very hard to throw 'traditional' into the mix.
Magnus was a very curious man, indeed.
Ludwig couldn't say he was very daunted by how much of a player Magnus may or may not have been, because he had looked at Magnus the very first time and had already assumed that about him. A guy like that. Ludwig was rather taken with him, and was very willing to give it a try. He may have very well been just another name in the end in Magnus' little black book, but would have been content with that.
So Ludwig just gave Magnus' hand a playful swing in the air, and said, tipsily, "So, you want me to be boyfriend number thirty-seven? Is that what you're sayin'?"
Magnus scoffed, pushed Ludwig's hand back, and griped, "You jerk! And you call me an asshole! It's number twenty-nine, get it right."
Ludwig burst into laughter, and asked, casually, "So why don't they last, huh? Your charming personality?"
"More like my mother's," Magnus replied, smiling yet as he eyed Ludwig up and down through his intoxication. "Wait 'til you meet her. I kinda dread it, actually."
Ludwig was the one to scoff then.
Mama's boy, huh? Figured. ...kinda cute.
"If I can put up with you and my brother, I think I stand a good chance of surviving your mother."
"Alright," Magnus drawled. "Be forewarned, though; she will expect you to marry me. As soon as possible."
A rush of red to Ludwig's face that wasn't from the beer.
Quite daunted and frightened despite his bold words, Ludwig leaned across the table and said, "Let's not plan the wedding yet, eh? Anyway, you have to survive my brother before I deal with your mother. I think you've got it worse."
Magnus was silent that time, looking a bit melancholy suddenly.
Hated that look on his face, so Ludwig stood clumsily up, staggered, and then hauled Magnus upright. They held each other for balance, Magnus pulling Ludwig up against him, and Ludwig tried to cheer Magnus up by chiding, "You haven't thrown any Shakespeare at me lately. You're slacking off. You haven't won me yet, so don't let up now."
It worked; Magnus was smiling again, quite contentedly, and immediately complied and began spouting whatever nonsense came to mind as he unsteadily walked Ludwig backwards onto the couch. They collapsed upon it in a heap, Magnus squirmed atop him and pinned him down, and, at last, Magnus finally kissed him.
Finally.
He wrapped his arms around Magnus' neck, and they lied there for an hour or two, Magnus' hands occasionally wandering but aside from that he was extremely well behaved, and Ludwig regretted when his phone buzzed.
Gilbert, nagging him as always.
He kissed Magnus' nose, and tried to squirm out from under him, saying, "I have to go."
Magnus didn't let him up, and tried, "Do you really, though? You can stay the night."
Ludwig lifted his brow, and opened his mouth, but Magnus beat him to the punch.
"But hey, now—if you stay, no funny business, alright? My reputation, and all that. You can't just have your way with me right off."
It was so stupid and absurd that Ludwig laughed, and he managed to shove a hand into his pocket and pull out his phone. Well. Ah, hell, why not? Gilbert was already onto him, couldn't be put in the dark forever, and so Ludwig just sent Gilbert a clumsy text informing him that he wouldn't be home that night.
Could already hear Gilbert pitching a fit, and Ludwig threw his phone down onto the floor when Magnus kissed him again, and the damn thing didn't stop buzzing for the next forty-five minutes.
When it was time to go to bed a few hours later, Ludwig picked the phone up and winced.
Yikes!
Thirty-eight texts. No thanks!
He just went to sleep, Magnus' arm over his chest, and ignored Gilbert very happily. Magnus had no idea what was in wait for him if he really did want to be in a relationship, and if Magnus thought his mother was scary, then Gilbert was likely going to feel more like a demon.
Respective frightening relatives aside, they slept easily.
Sunday morning came, far too quickly, and they lied in bed for a long while very lazily before they headed out into the streets in search of breakfast, given Magnus' lack of anything that wasn't liquid in his apartment.
They were walking without a care in the world, Ludwig very much up in the clouds, Magnus' hand resting on the small of his back and guiding him along.
Felt the best he ever had.
And then they crossed a newspaper stand, and something caught Ludwig's eye.
He froze still in absolute shock, dragging Magnus to a halt with him, and he stared over at the rack of tabloids with wide eyes of horror. Holy shit, had to be seeing things surely, was absolutely seeing things, there was no way in hell that what he was seeing was real—
Ludwig drifted over in a daze to the newspaper stand, took a gossip tabloid up in his hands, and gawked at it in nothing less than absolute horror.
He saw himself there, and Magnus.
Oh dear god, that unspeakable horror he felt, as he held that tabloid in front of his face and stared holes down at it. That photo. When Ludwig had slipped on the ice the day before, someone had snapped a picture of it. Magnus, catching him and holding him steady, a brief look of concern on his face as Ludwig panicked. A very cute photo, granted, and had it not been plastered on a fucking tabloid for the entire world to see Ludwig would have been so much more keen on it.
But why?
His eyes drifted to the bold text above.
'PRINCE CHARMING SAVES THE DAY!'
Smaller text on the side.
'Prince Magnus or Knight in Shining Armor? Does Our Dashing Prince Romeo Have a New Juliet?'
Couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't even see straight suddenly, as the words blurred together into an unfocused mess. Had never been knocked so entirely senseless.
Appalled. Aghast. Affronted. Offended. Juliet—? The nerve!
Prince?
Magnus had never said a damn thing about being a Prince. A little of this and that? Public relations—what a lying bastard!
Ludwig was hopelessly dumbfounded.
Ludwig turned to look over at Magnus accusatively, mouth dropped open and eyes wide and nostrils flared, as the flight response rose up, and Magnus just snorted, and drawled, "Well. Cat's outta the bag, I guess."
Was that all he had to say?
Hands trembling suddenly, Ludwig clenched the tabloid, as Magnus threw a few coins at the vendor to purchase it, and when he found his voice at last he uttered, weakly, "How could you hide this from me?"
Magnus seemed hardly bothered, and ran a hand through his messy hair with a smirk, waving off Ludwig's accusation.
"What? It's not like I lied to you or anything. You didn't really ask."
No shit!
Who thought to sit there and ask the man they were casually dating, 'Say, you're not a fuckin' Prince, are you?' No one fucking did that, because no one ever had to, holy shit—
Ludwig's first instinct then was to run away screaming, and maybe Magnus might have seen that a little on his face because suddenly he snatched out and looped his arm within Ludwig's, keeping him very still and very much at his side.
"Hey!" Magnus chided, as he forced Ludwig's shuffling feet still. "Remember what we talked about last night? You kinda agreed to be my boyfriend. I mean... If you've changed your mind, I guess that's that, but— I kinda don't wanna move on to number thirty, you know? I get it, really, but... Ha. Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown. Story of my life."
Christ, Magnus' overbearing mother; the Queen of fuckin' Denmark, good god!
It was terror then that kept Ludwig perfectly still and straight, still staring at Magnus in horror. Magnus waited for Ludwig's response, and maybe by then Magnus was looking a little nervous.
Ludwig opened his mouth, and foundered.
What the hell was he supposed to say? This was a rather earth shattering revelation, not one so easily digested, and certainly not one to be made very lightly.
Ludwig didn't have time to think much about it, as a man suddenly ran up with a camera and very rudely snapped a shot of them right there. Magnus, very used to it, didn't flinch at all. Ludwig gawked and gaped, and at the look on his face Magnus started laughing, actually cackling, and Ludwig huffed.
...well, could see why Magnus had been less than forthcoming with him, perhaps.
He folded the tabloid neatly, tucked it into his coat pocket, because it would actually make a great souvenir for Gilbert, humiliation aside, and he tried to figure out where to go from there. Forward, really. Seemed to be the only way. Had gotten too attached to Magnus, really, to toss him aside and go into hiding, although that would have been the smarter option.
Didn't like when Magnus looked nervous and sad, and so Ludwig fortified his bravery.
He could handle this. He could.
Ludwig lifted his chin, gathered his dignity, and grumbled, testily, "Well, then! Don't embarrass me. Make sure you're on your best behavior at all times. I won't be made a fool of on tabloid covers."
Magnus just leered at him, looking smug again, and dramatically bowed and swept his arm forward.
"After you, then."
Ludwig stalked off, Magnus trotting behind him, and Ludwig absolutely under no circumstances was not envisioning himself becoming a faux-royal. Nope. Not at all. Not interested.
He was going to sleep on it, and would make a decision with a clear head.
For all the good it mattered, because Magnus jogged ahead of him so that he could walk backwards and look Ludwig up and down, before saying, "Yeah. You'll make a good Prince! I think I have a good eye."
Ludwig immediately tripped over his own feet.
Magnus walked him dutifully to the border, and as soon as Ludwig made it home and shut the door behind him, he ran furiously through the house, ripped open Gilbert's door, and lunged inside. Gilbert actually jumped and cried out in alarm, shirtless and messy-haired, eyes wide and mouth open as he leapt out of bed in only his boxers. Ludwig didn't give Gilbert a chance to panic, and instead threw the tabloid straight at Gilbert's face.
Gilbert dumbly looked down at it, gaped in absolute shock, and then, just like Magnus, Gilbert started laughing and couldn't stop.
Ludwig huffed more and stalked out and into the kitchen and grabbed a beer.
These two jerks!
Had to say, though, that they would make very interesting brother-in-laws.
Gilbert laughed until he was crying and couldn't breathe, and last Ludwig saw of that tabloid, it was pinned up on Gilbert's wall.
Gilbert was wheezing when he came into the kitchen, wiping his eyes and looking pained, and he said to Ludwig, "You fuckin'— You're shittin' me, Lutz! This is what you've been up to? Huh? Really? And you didn't fuckin' tell me? I don't want you to ever have a boyfriend, but in this case I'll make an exception. Holy shit! You know what this will do for us? Goddamn, I'm gonna be a fuckin' Prince!"
Asshole.
Ludwig plowed through his beer, and went for another, griping, "You're not gonna be shit, you jerk! You're cut out of the royal family tree."
Hardly.
"Yeah, yeah. Don't you let this go, got it? I'm watching you now to make sure you don't screw up."
How quickly Gilbert's tune had changed.
When Magnus called that night, Ludwig sent Gilbert a glare, and then picked up the phone.
"Care to be my royal date tonight, Juliet?"
Gilbert raised a hand to his forehead and swooned dramatically, hip thrown out and eyelashes fluttering, and Ludwig threw his empty beer can at Gilbert and squeaked more than he meant to, "Okay!"
Gilbert started laughing again.
When Ludwig passed him, he kicked Gilbert's shin. When Gilbert was done wallowing, he called to Ludwig, as Ludwig made for the door, "Don't you blow it, you little bastard! I deserve to be royalty!"
Ludwig slammed the door behind him.
In all honesty, Ludwig had no intentions of blowing it, because, well...
Everyone dreamed of being royalty.
So, when Magnus dramatically extended his arm, Ludwig took it, and ignored the camera flashes. A rush, certainly, and Magnus was too handsome to really resist, too funny and too amicable.
Magnus saw him smiling, and crooned, egotistically, "I knew you wouldn't resist me for long."
Ludwig rolled his eyes, and retorted, "You're no prince charming, whatever the papers say, so don't get ahead of yourself."
Magnus just rolled back his shoulders, looking as if he owned the world, and drawled, "I may not be prince charming, but I think I'll make a majestic king, don't you?"
Ugh.
Beleaguered, Ludwig muttered, "Your ego is majestic, Prince Charmless."
Magnus just strutted along happily, dragging Ludwig where he would.
Gilbert and Magnus would make the worst possible brother-in-laws. Couldn't wait.
As they walked Ludwig had a sudden mental image of Gilbert dressed in royal raiment, crown lopsided atop his head, holding the Danish royal scepter (if there was one) and standing atop the throne, waving the scepter over the room and pretending that he owned the world entire. Bonus points for holding an old Viking shield in the other hand.
He started laughing and couldn't stop, and Magnus just stared over at him as if Ludwig had lost his mind.
He absolutely had.
Gilbert did deserve to be royalty, if only because it would be hilarious.
He knew that Gilbert would of course never set foot into a palace anywhere, wouldn't be anything to anyone, but it was a damn fun thought all the same, and Gilbert would enjoy whatever title was bestowed upon either him or Ludwig.
When he could breathe again, Ludwig clung to Magnus' arm and said, so cheerily, "So when's the wedding? Your mother is waiting."
Magnus' breathless, confused smile.
"Changed your mind, huh? I knew you would. Let's go meet my mom, then. Damn, will she be glad you aren't Swedish!"
Ludwig snorted.
"Well," Magnus quickly added. "On second thought. Let's enjoy my last two months down here together before we go back to Copenhagen to tie the knot, alright?"
"Deal."
Magnus smiled the entire time they walked, and Ludwig realized that he was too.
He liked Magnus, and not because he was a Prince, and for that he would suffer bad tabloid headlines. If Magnus played his cards right, he would have no need of facing that dreaded number thirty.
Ludwig would get to live a little fairytale fantasy he had never even known he had.
Prince Charmless could be a little charming, after all.
Worth a shot.