author's note: hello! this was also posted on AO3 under "Apulia", so if you find that here it's mine. if you are italian and want to read this in italian, PM me! so, basically this was originally written in italian and translated in english using an online -translator. if you notice any mistakes, tell me so i can correct them! there will be 15 chapters and i will post a new chapter every saturday (italian timezone)

i hope you enjoy!

"So Lovi what we were talking about...oh! Yeah as I told you, Ludwig took me for an ice cream even though it wasn't very good, in fact it tasted like bad milk but I ate it anyway because he offered it to me. And then we went to the Luna Park and he bought me cotton candy..."

"Oh, dear God! How much does he talk? Damn it!" Lovino said to himself.

He puffed his eyes as he sat at the pizzeria table and watched his brother. Lovino looked absent, his head was to another place; the only thing that still kept him fixed on the surrounding situation and that prevented him from digressing further with his head in the clouds, was the distraction inflicted by his brother, who was gesticulating like and talking as fast as a machine gun. It was obvious that Feliciano was pretty excited, all confirmed further by his sizzling and ringing voice.

Lovino noticed how the German bastard had made him happy even though he offered him a lousy ice cream. Perhaps a shit would have been tastier, but Feliciano had appreciated that gesture. With his head resting on his hand, and his face was followed by his classic frown, just like always while he nodded mechanically just to give his brother the impression that he was actually listening and paying attention to him.

yes,the guy named Ludwig seemed to have made his little brother too happy. He suspected that there was something between the two of them, but for the first time the boy with the coppery curl who used to scream his personal affairs to the whole world, had kept himself quite private leaving a trail of mystery behind himself. But to Lovino the most probable hypothesis was that his brother had not yet had the courage to reveal him his relationship with the German. He began to brush the edge of the wine glass with his finger, and with tired eyes and eyelids drooping down in boredom, he continued to listen to his brother's spiel, who hadn't hidden even the smallest and least important detail about his fairy-tale day with his lovely potato-eater.

"Gentlemen, your pizzas are ready" Lovino blessed the waiter, who had arrived at exactly the right moment, interrupting the "talkative mode" Feliciano went through.

His bored gaze changed: his pupils grew larger when and when he drew his brows together, his forehead automatically wrinkled. He felt frozen, as if someone had just put a gun to his forehead, making him unable to react to what he was seeing.

"For the sake of god, damn, Feliciano! Now that German even influenced the way you eat!" Lovino's nauseated expression fell on Feliciano's pizza. It would have been a normal Margherita like his own, but instead he found that the pizza was ruined by lousy pieces of frankfurters on it.

He thought it was too much. Biting his fingernails with his eyes peeling out in anxiety, he imagined what it would be like to live together with a Feliciano who drank tons of beer, who ate pasta with ketchup or sausage.
Sooner or later his brother would have forgotten the elegant and pleasant taste of wine, able only to recognize the acid and piss taste that characterized that disgusting beer Germans loves so much.

"Come on Lovi! They're just frankfurters! Besides, it's Ludwig's favorite pizza..."

"Don't tell me you're into that potato bastard!"

Feliciano's cheeks who were as round as his face, were covered with a veil of redness. His eyes shone, and the field of red poppies on his face extended to the tips of his ears.
Lovino looked at how his brother's legs had become as soft as spaghetti, the index fingers of both hands rubbing against each other, all followed by a slight embarrassed giggle, which he hid by placing a hand on his lips that looked like rose petals.
The older brother gouged out his eyes, and an occult force took his hand as a hostage, making it tremble nervously to the rhythm of his foot slamming to the ground.
Damn it, he knew! The stupid bastard had brainwashed his brother, he knew it from the moment he saw what his brother was eating with taste.

Lovino's natural frown softened, almost fading away and giving way to a honeyed but confused expression, and his beautiful green gems were moving around always looking at different subjects, as if they were looking for an answer in their surroundings.

"Lovi, what's that face? Look, if you don't want me to go out with him, I can always refuse."

"What the fuck! Do you think I care of who you go out with, who you fuck or who you get engaged to?" He paused and took a deep breath. "If you're happy, than so am I."

He crossed his arms and immediately looked away from his brother, trying to hide his visibly embarrassed expression because of the phrase that was a bit too sweet and understanding by his standards.

"Aw Fratello! How nice of you!" Feliciano was daydreaming, and his face radiant. He knew how much his brother loved him, how much he would give his life for him, but he never expected such hasty and sincere approval.

"Of course, if he even touches you with a finger, I'll break it and I'll break his face too" and there he is, he was back to his old self in less than a minute.

He slammed his fist on the table, shaking the pile of wood and everything on it; after having taken on the expression of a lion ready to tear to pieces whoever had come under fire at that moment, he recomposed himself by adjusting his tie and clearing his voice with a few coughs, returning to his usual frown. His threatening voice however slightly upset Feliciano, who, thinking of a possible quarrel between his brother and Ludwig, could not help but reveal a loud laugh that attracted the intrigued glances and the serpentine words of the whole place.

"But I swear, if you start preferring sausage to pasta, I'll kill you too, with my bare hands!" He turned again in front of Feliciano, pale and visibly nervous while biting his tongue, which at that moment was a sponge full of the worst insults in case of need.

"But Lovi! How could you ever think such a thing?" Feliciano put his hands forward, reassuring his brother.

Lovino shrugged his shoulders. Not that he really cared about what his brother could eat, but since he still lived at home with him he had to eat what he decided and prepared lovingly, with no German alternatives or any other types of food. He put his jacket back on, left the waiter's tip on the table and paid the bill, then politely took his leave and left the place, followed by a jumping Feliciano who would sooner or later explode like a time bomb.
He got into the car rolling his eyes and scratching his head, then got behind the wheel and started driving recklessly, causing an attack of nausea and vomiting to his poor brother.

"Fratello, I don't feel so good-" Feliciano covered his mouth with his hand, swelling his cheek and getting a dull complexion on his face.

"Damn it, don't throw up in my car or I'll make you eat everything again!"

Well, not that Lovino's aggressive, rude words would scare Mr. Vomit who was ready to throw up out of his brother's stomach and elegantly spill on his freshly washed, brand-new black mats.
It wasn't the first time his passengers felt an imminent need to regurgitate, pointing their fingers at the Italian with eyes that looked like oil puddles, repeating to the point of exhaustion how crazy his driving was.

"We're almost there! Hold the hit!"

And as soon as he got stuck in front of the huge front door of the Vargas' house, Feliciano jumped out of the car running towards the bathroom, spilling everything.
Lovino stood on the threshold of the door with his arms folded, while with an arched eyebrow, he paid so much attention to his brother that someone who had seen him might have thought he was counting his brother's regurgitation drops.

"Tsk. You are exaggerated!" He exclaimed, disappointed.

"It's because you drive like you're in the jungle!"

"No, that's because the bastard's ice cream got on your stomach!"

"But everyone says you're a bad driver!"

"everyone who? Years have passed since I didn't get someone in the car who isn't you!"

It was a hard blow for Lovino to admit it, and even if saying those words aggressively might give the impression that he didn't care, it wasn't really like that.
He missed socializing, playing football with friends and drinking a nice Italian red wine in the company of someone different. He had reduced almost to 0 any relationship of friendship outside Italy and totally avoided socializing, since when a Spanish bastard had made fun of him, making him suffer like a dog for years.
That's why he slowly became more aggressive than usual in order to keep at a safe distance new possible friends, but also possible traitors.

He took a deep breath, puffing slightly. Since he had left Italy to move to Germany, he survived instead of living. He was living a life of sufficiency without any comfort.
He missed the reckless races with his fellow countrymen, or when on hot summer nights the music of some neighbor's radio resounded all over the village, bringing people who wanted to spend a sleepless night while having fun.
His brother was not like that. He loved to socialize, and in Germany he had had the opportunity to do so even more often, attracting the attention of some German curious about the Italian way of life. Feliciano was their storyteller, who spoke to the point of exhaustion.

A nostalgic smile formed on his face. His countrymen were brothers to him, and together they had lived for generations and generations, poverty and misery. they had gone through the worst, and had come out glorious and victorious. and that was for Lovino, a great encouragement that spurred him to fight even when he was weak or was given up.
he always got up, struggled with his nails and teeth to get what he wanted, but that was not easy to get because more than a stupid material asset.
The roar of tap water filled the silence. Lovino noticed the look in his brother's eyes, where sadness had taken full possession of his face.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Can't I look at you?"

"of course you can look at me, but it wouldn't be the right thing to do now because If you don't clean up quickly, you're going to be late for your afternoon class at school" the elegance, in which Lovino using simple words panicked his brother, was was the most amazing and yet exhilarating at the same time.
His mouth opened wide as did his eyes, Feliciano began to slap himself on the head for forgetting. In a hurry he cleaned everything up, took everything he needed, then rushed out the door waving his hand to greet his brother.

"Do you want me to drive you?"

"No no! I'm going on foot, it's not that far" Feliciano broke out in a cold sweat, and totally liquidated his brother's offer, and then headed for the destination.

Lovino's lips curled in a shy, hasty smile. He looked at his watch: 3 o'clock in the afternoon.

It was still too early to count the money to see how much he had before the end of the month. The education expenses for Feliciano, who was attending his last year of high school, were the ones that most depleted his salary, and despite the state's financial aid, he was hardly able to stay away from being broke.

He sat on the deckchair in the enormous balcony, lighting up a cigarette to relax while contemplating the noise of silence, which would soon be replaced by the rustling of the paper, the ticking of the clock and the sound of the keys on the calculator.

"So, how'd it go with the little Italian?" Gilbert noticed a glow coming from Ludwig's always serious and apparently inexpressive face.

Gilbert knew about his date with Feliciano, and although he knew he had to be happy for his brother's conquest, he was ashamed and dirty in feeling big jealousy towards him.
It had been months since when he tried in every way, even the most trivial and annoying one, to gain Feliciano's attention.
If we really want to be precise, he had obtained it, but not in the way he would have hoped: simply, Feliciano did not have a romantic interest in him but considered him just a good friend.

Ludwig, in a way, had stolen it from him.

Gilbert had invited Feliciano to their home, trying to make him part of his daily life and introduce him to his brother. But everything did not go according to his plans: he could read in his brother's eyes his interest in the Italian, and when both their cheeks were painted a slight shade of red, Gilbert realized that Feliciano preferred the other German.
And as he saw them from the kitchen while cuddling his little bird, he understood how the three of them would like to go for a nice beer together.
But unlike his imagination, if such a thing could ever happen, he would not be the one in pairs but he would simply identify himself as the intrusive drunkard on duty who didn't care to get in his brother's way for pure personal satisfaction.

"Uh, it wen well, thank you." Ludwig clarified his voice, trying to deal with the embarrassment. He had never spoken to his brother about his love life. "I took him to Hans Eiscafé for ice cream."

"Oh, Ludwig! It's not awesome or clever to bring an Italian to Hans!" Gilbert looked at him with his mouth open. His brother had made a big mistake. Bringing an Italian to Hans was tantamount to death. Their ice cream was good for the Germans, who had rarely tasted the real Italian homemade one, otherwise Gilbert was sure that if they did, they too would have felt slightly disgusted by Hans'.

Rule number 8 of dating Italians: If you want to impress an Italian by making him eat Italian food, make sure it is really Italian.

Gilbert had learned many things from his many experiences with Italian girls even before he met Feliciano, and he knew that this place meant the end of your dating before it even started, so it had to be avoided like it was the plague.

He noticed how his brother was inexperienced, and if a voice in his head told him that their relationship would end immediately and that he, unlike his brother, would make Feliciano happy being the king of sex and romance, the voice of his conscience told him that wanting to hurt his brother and wish him something failed was not awesome.

Nor was it a thing for awesome people.

"Well, I figured it out late... I noticed the disgusted look on his face even though he tried to hide it, so to make it up to me I took him to the carnival and I think he had fun?" Ludwig looked at his brother with an air of questioning, hoping for his opinion, but the latter shrugged his brother's shoulders and categorically avoided helping him.

"I hope so for you!" He lifted his fingers up in the air, crossing them, and then swooped onto the sofa and grabbed the remote control to begin an intense, boring continuous zapping between the channels.

"You should stop acting like a child, because you're 20 years old. It's certainly not my fault if he doesn't feel the same way about you."

Gilbert froze, turning to his brother and grimacing at him, intended to annoy his younger brother.

"Well, I would certainly have had a different reaction if it hadn't been my brother who had stolen him." Ludwig was quite hurt by those words, but he did not convey a single sign of weakness. He knew that in these situations Gilbert was at his worst, because he was not used to rejection. He was the one who drew the two spades, and it was the first time he was on the side of making people suffer.

He wasn't mean, he didn't do it on purpose. He simply never felt any real interest in anyone other than Feliciano. He liked to spend a nice evening with beer and flirting. He thought they were all looking for fun. Ludwig knew that Gilbert would one day love so much that he could not distinguish colors, he knew he would love so much that he would forget the days and hours, he knew he would love just so much.

And it made his heart cry to see him like that. He wanted to do something, but he didn't know what. He needed someone with whom he could totally express himself without feeling judged, because even strong people like Gilbert needed to feel loved, they just couldn't count on themselves forever. He needed someone who would make him laugh even in tears, he needed someone who would give his heart to him not asking for anything in return.
with each passing day, he was more and more alone. He had been pushing and pushed away had since when someone called him the a player.
Every day he got sadder, Ludwig knew he was trying to get by on his own and get by; Ludwig heard him crying in his room in the middle of the night, crushing his head in the pillow, hoping that it would somehow lessen his tears.
He spent his whole days playing video games, working out at the gym and getting drunk with friends, and maybe even something more.

With a serious face, Ludwig knew that the only one who could wake his brother up was him. He probably shouldn't have hung out with Feliciano to not upset his brother, but at the same time he knew that even if he was immersed in the deepest pain, it would do him good and spur him on to become the best version of himself, someone more...awesome.

"Instead of just sitting on the couch on your stomach, you could be doing something more productive, couldn't you?"

"Cut it out, Ludwig! You were just lucky, don't think you're better than me!"

"I don't think I'm better than you, Gilbert. I just want you to be happy, the sea is full of fishes and I'm sure you'll find someone else."

"Easy to say if you have already taken the best one!" Gilbert's angry voice tone was in perfect contrast with Ludwig's rigid one.

"It's not what you think, Gilbert. If you don't search, you don't find."

"You know Ludwig, your philosophical and heartwarming phrases really broke my balls." He mimed a moved expression. "I am not the one who seeks, I am the one who is sought."

"Then why are you alone?"

"Ludwig, you're really mad at me today, huh?" He grunted, slammed the TV remote control on the floor and snapped off the couch to face his brother.

He gnashed his teeth and gritted them, while his mouth twitched and his brows snapped together.

"You don't have always to throw everything at me! I'm so damn awesome and you have no right to make me feel like the worst piece of shit." He started pointing his index finger at Ludwig's chest, but the young man's impassive gaze made Gilbert jump on his nerves, who took his jacket and slammed the door after leaving the house.

Ludwig stood there, emotionless. He looked at the door and heard his brother's expletives in the background.

He was behaving like a child, and Ludwig regretted having been so hard and insensitive to his brother, even though he knew in the deep of his heart that he had done the right thing.

Here i am again. if you like it, feel free to leave me a feedback!