Hopefully their relationships will improve.

0o0o0o

Gilbert stayed awake for hours almost every night. Ludwig knew because he could hear the scratching of pen on paper. He was always writing. Usually letters. And Ludwig knew he got some back, penned in careful purple-inked cursive and in unmarked envelopes.

Ludwig saw one of Gilbert's own-scrawled in blue, marked with a drawing of his pet canary-stuffed in the back pocket of his jeans when Gilbert nearly tripped down the stairs and his shirt rode up. He looked exhausted, even more than usual, and dark circles ringed his eyes. Gilbert accepted his hand up and tucked in his shirt. They ate breakfast in stony silence, and Ludwig cast about for something else to think of, and as seemed to be normal now, thought of Feliciano.

Feliciano had a way of bursting into his life and making it more chaotic and a thousand times better than before. It seemed to have some added to his hair, because Ludwig hadn't been able to fully tame his hair in the morning, and stray spikes still stuck out at the back. He thought it looked obvious exactly what he'd been doing, but it's not like he could ask Gilbert.

Even if Gilbert thought he might be-and he wasn't-like that, the tone of his voice made Ludwig sure he wouldn't tell him about what had happened last night.

'I need to go downtown,' Gilbert said, taking the last piece of toast.

'You're grounded,' Vati said calmly.

'I'm seventeen!'

'You live in my house, you follow my rules,' Vati said darkly.

'What rules are those? I'm sure I broke the one about being an acceptable grandson,' Gilbert snarled, throwing his fork back on his plate with a clatter. Ludwig flinched, and Gilbert shrunk in his seat as if he had been the one scared by the sharp noise, remembering. He was quieter now. 'Which rule did I break?'

'You aren't allowed to take the car out by yourself.'

Gilbert bit back a scathing response Ludwig could see he wanted to shout. 'That was a week ago, and it was for Feli.'

Ludwig hadn't known he'd taken the car, let alone for Feliciano.

'You can wait another week or two to go downtown, then.'

Gilbert held his tongue again, and after a long, tense moment, went back to eating, stabbing his toast with a screech of metal on ceramic. His other hand drifted towards his pocket, brushing the letter. He wasn't arguing, but all his firebrand emotions couldn't be checked for long, and Ludwig was worried.

When he went upstairs, Gilbert was examining Feliciano's painting. Ludwig stopped in the doorway, feeling awkward. He didn't know how or what Gilbert would think of it.

'He's an incredible artist,' Gilbert said without turning to look at him, and the tense knot in Ludwig's stomach loosened a little. He stood beside him.

'I know. I...I gave him one of my drawings. So he could give me advice.'

Gilbert didn't comment on that. He looked down at the records.

'That's why I took the car. For him to get these.' He must have noticed Ludwig's expression, because he ruffled his hair. 'Don't worry, I don't regret it so long as you liked the music. The Kinks, huh. Good band. Personally, Roddy likes-I mean, I've heard of this new artist. He goes by Eno.'

'Who's Roddy?'

'Someone from the music hall.' Gilbert's tone made it very clear he didn't want to continue that conversation. Ludwig didn't care.

'Is his full name Roderich Edelstein?'

Gilbert didn't say anything for a long moment. 'Why?' he asked, voice measured.

'He's fairly popular as a composer, isn't he?' Ludwig scrambled for an explanation. 'Kiku said you were in a competition with him.'

Gilbert studied him out of the corner of his eye. Ludwig was more used to seeing other people be studied this way by his brother, like he was trying to figure out if he was angry at them or not.

'Yes,' Gilbert said slowly. 'Vati isn't so keen on that, so that's why he doesn't like me going there.' His voice rang of the half-truths Ludwig heard people say about their past lives when they were in Berlin.

'But you're friends, right?' Ludwig pushed. Gilbert said nothing. 'Like Feliciano and me,' he added, wondering if that included the right feeling and if Gilbert might understand that.

Gilbert's mouth cracked into half a grin for a second, like maybe he did understand. 'Yes. Like you and Feliciano.'

Gilbert looked more easy and open now than he had in a while, and Ludwig knew he should ask about everything, like what if I think Feliciano is beautiful, is that okay here? But he had the feeling the answer would be no.

'Are you writing letters to him?' Ludwig asked instead.

Gilbert looked taken aback, and his hand went to his pocket. 'Yes, about competition,' he said. 'Like you and Feliciano drawing. As friends.'

'Is that why you wanted to go downtown? Why couldn't you just put it in the post box?'

Gilbert sighed and sat down on his bed. Ludwig sat down next to him.

'Ludwig, it's not like that. This is different. Vati doesn't know about…' He worked silently for an answer. 'He doesn't know Roderich exists, okay? And even though it's just friendly competition, I don't want him to know in case he might get mad. And since Roderich performs, he moves around, and I don't want letters being delivered back here if I address it to a hall he's already left. So either I give it to someone I know downtown, or I give it to Antonio.' Gilbert took a deep breath. 'You'll understand when you're older.'

'I can give it to Antonio,' Ludwig offered.

'He's out of town.' Gilbert's hands were absently squeezing in the bedsheets. He muttered a soft swear. 'He's gonna be worried. We had a...meeting. My letter confirms I'd be there.'

'You sound like you care about him,' Ludwig said. Gilbert seemed a different person with a soft, painful sort of yearning. He gave a smile.

'I do. Like you care about Feliciano.'

That last line made Ludwig turn red, but Gilbert seemed too distracted to notice and left.

0o0o0o

Feliciano didn't know how he hadn't noticed his grandfather taking so much cough medicine, but now that he was paying attention, he saw the bottles tucked in random cupboards that Nonno would pull out when he didn't think Feliciano was looking. He seemed to have less reservations with Lovino. It had been this way for what felt like forever. Nonno would have a secret, Lovino would look angry and almost scared about it, and Feliciano would never know. It made him feel like his family thought he was still a baby.

That's partially why having this glowing, amazing secret was so good. That, and that Feliciano still went breathless when he thought of it.

Antonio had been coming over a lot. Lovino would usually tell Feliciano to go, which gave him an opportunity to sit in the old apple tree with Ludwig and tell him things and practice sparring with sticks. Feliciano thought he was getting pretty good, but he would be a lot better if he stopped getting distracted by the way Ludwig looked when concentrated and moving. He'd spent one too many of their matches with Ludwig's 'sword' pressed to his stomach, half-dazzled by that secret, unabashed smile just for him and decidedly without an excuse as to why he lost that wasn't a detailed description of why Ludwig was so pretty.

They hadn't really kissed again-the cheek didn't count, Feliciano decided-but sometimes they talked about it, and Ludwig had also thought it was good, but they hadn't talked about if they were like Francis said. Homosexual. The word felt foreign and strange, too tied to the words people shouted that made them both flinch.

They talked about everything and nothing instead of that, like school and how Antonio had suddenly stopped coming over-apparently he was out of town-and that Vati didn't know about Roderich. Feliciano found this interesting.

'I don't know if I could hide something like that,' he confessed. 'I almost accidentally told Lovi twice yesterday by asking if my hair looked like you'd messed it up.'

'Please don't tell him. Your hair looks fine. Mine won't take at the back,' Ludwig teased. 'I almost asked Gilbert the same thing.'

'Really, though, how could you hide someone you care about like that? If we were still friends but mostly over letters, I wouldn't be able to-' Feliciano stopped before he said kiss you. By the blush on Ludwig's cheeks, he seemed to have understood. 'I would have accidentally told everyone.'

'Gilbert said they were just friends, like us,' Ludwig pointed out. 'I don't think he knew about...that, but we both didn't tell about that today. Because…'

The silence hung between them, speaking of older brothers and grandfathers and labels. They said nothing more. Ludwig looked up towards the sky.

'I'm glad we're friends,' Ludwig said instead.

'Me too,' Feliciano agreed. Ludwig was still watching the sky, but he took his hand. 'Did...did something happen?'

'Gilbert is grounded, but at least he didn't fight it, even though he wanted to mail a letter to Roderich,' Ludwig said. 'What happened with you? You look worried.'

'I don't! Even if I am, I don't look worried.'

Ludwig touched the corner of his eye. 'You squint here when you're worried. What's wrong?'

'Nonno is taking a lot of cough medicine,' Feliciano said. Even to him, it sounded ridiculous.

'Is he sick?'

'I don't think so.'

Quiet, and Feliciano saw the way Ludwig's hand went up to his hair.

'It's not just Gilbert, is it?'

Ludwig dropped his hand from his hair. 'It's-I always do that, don't I?'

'Yes. It's really obvious, at least mine is pretty subtle. Don't stop it, though, I want to know so I can make you better. Or if you do, make it be because you're not worried at all anymore. What happened?'

'Are...are we sick?' he asked hesitantly. Feliciano's stomach dropped. 'I hear people-and the preacher-say that people who are homosexual are sick-but are we even like that?'

'I don't know,' Feliciano said honestly. 'But this...whatever this is feels right. It can't be like they say.' He gestured to their hands.

Ludwig nodded firmly. 'It's...I was thinking that if being a...homosexual meant that you got hurt like you see on TV, I never wanted to be that. But we don't have to be.'

'What are we, then?' Feliciano asked.

'Just us,' Ludwig answered. 'We can just be us.'

Feliciano agreed.

0o0o0o

Lovino looked tired and more annoyed than usual with every mishap. Feliciano tried to stay out of his way, but he had a feeling he knew why his brother was so irritable.

'Antonio didn't abandon you, he just left town!' he announced, standing at Lovino's doorway. Lovino nearly dropped a shoebox and practically dragged him inside the room.

'I know that!' he hissed. 'He told me before he left. Counseling at a weekend camp or something.' He snorted, absentmindedly rifling through the box to ensure nothing had fallen out. Feliciano leaned over to see inside, and he slammed the lid shut, but not before Feliciano saw the sheet music.

'You're taking that to Roderich, right?'

'I...you're not supposed to know about that,' Lovino accused.

'You can take Gilbert's letter downtown! Because he needs to deliver it, but not through post, and Antonio's out.'

'I can't, Feli. I…' A strange emotion flashed over his face. 'I have to make sure Nonno gets over his...cough.'

'But you are delivering?'

Lovino relented. 'Yeah, I am. Favour to Toni. Damn. I meant Antonio, Feliciano, you didn't hear that-'

'You call him Toni!' Feliciano exclaimed, delighted. Lovino was finally warming back up to him. 'Can I call him that, too?'

'No.'

'Can I call you Lovi?'

'Absolutely not.'

'Please?'

His brother's eyes softened slightly. Lovino had always had a weakness for him, even when they were young. No matter how much he complained, he let Feliciano past his prickly outer shell. Feliciano was glad he'd let Antonio see the real him, too. 'Not in public. And if you do it too often, I'll rescind permission. Only Antonio can-' He stopped.

'You know,' Feliciano said, bouncing on the bed in his excitement, 'Ludwig and I were talking about this thing we do-it's not important, but it kind of changes things. For the better. And if you and Toni don't want to be like that, you can just be yourselves.'

Instantly, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. Lovino quietly put down the shoebox.

'What's the thing?' he asked.

'That's not important-'

'What was it?'

'I…' He couldn't tell him. This was their secret, and not just because it was the only important thing that was just his. 'I told him sei bello. And ti amo.'

Lovino looked stunned into silence.

'Feliciano, you-you can't do that,' he said.

'But it's not like that!' Feliciano protested.

'Do you think the people who see you telling another man those sorts of things will care that you don't want to call yourself a certain name?' Lovino shook him harder than he must have meant. His words were spiraling. Even if they were just themselves, the preacher and the people on the street didn't care. He would get hurt. Ludwig would get hurt.

'We've been careful, nobody would know-it's just us, Lovi. We're not hurting anybody.'

'Do you think they care? Do you think any goddamn war on this earth wasn't made because of people who weren't hurting anybody?' Lovino wasin a fury now, red and not listening to protests. He started shoving things apart in his drawers, searching for something. 'You want to know what happens when people think you're like that, Feliciano?' He pulled out a pocketknife, and Feliciano barely caught Antonio's signature on the side before Lovino pulled up his sleeve and showed a long, angry red line. The sight made Feliciano sick. 'Antonio gave me this to defend myself after someone gave me this.'

'Because you were…' Feliciano breathed. The fury drained from Lovino's face, turning him ghostly white.

'Because they thought-he's an idiot and he can't be careful-you don't know what you're talking about.' Lovino couldn't even form a proper sentence. 'We're not. We can't be.' His voice dropped to a whisper. 'He's...he's the pastor's son. He told me.'

0o0o0o

These characters are going to need a lot of luck.

:: Theatre sets before lighting