Feliciano hates America.
Of course he knew that adjusting to their new life in America would be hard, but he hadn't imagined just how hard it would be.
It's been almost a month and the Italian still doesn't have a job. In that country hard muscles are more appreciated than anything else, hard muscles that Feliciano doesn't fully have, unlike Ludwig that didn't have trouble to get a job on a warehouse carrying boxes and such.
Not to mention that the brunette's English lessons aren't going that well, mainly because Ludwig gets back home really late in the evening and obviously tired. So Feliciano has had to study by himself, something that he isn't that good to begin with.
Thanks to the blond's job, they are able to rent a little apartment. Nothing fancy, though, it's just a room with a bed big enough for the two of them, a little gas stove, basic kitchen furniture, a little wardrobe, and, incredibly, a very small bathroom with a toilet and a shower. Of course the place is kind of expensive for their resources, but Ludwig said he wouldn't take a cheaper place without a private bathroom – he can be a little prissy sometimes, you see – but because of that most of the money goes to paying the rent.
They are currently living in what is called "Little Italy" in the lower part of Manhattan. It's not the only Italian neighborhood, nonetheless, nor the biggest; there is also the "Italian Harlem" in the upper part of Manhattan, but things are a little nasty – more like a lot – over there, because it's the epicenter of theCosa Nostra, and not only that, but one of the biggest mafia families used to have power over that place, but recently got convicted, so right now it's a fucking mess over the new ownership of the territory. And Feliciano and Ludwig had immigrated from Italia to get out of that kind of bullshit in the first place.
Feliciano has suggested multiple times to work on an Italian restaurant near their small apartment, and Ludwig also thought it was a good idea at first, but after a while refused saying something about it being too dangerous. Mafia is a real thing, of course, and Little Italy isn't exempt of that type of dirty business.
And because of his almost null knowledge of English, the Italian can't even hope to get a job outside of their neighborhood. Plus his immigrant condition also causes Americans to always have a nasty attitude towards him. It's kind of funny, Feliciano thinks, because the United States – or at least New York City – is a melting pot of cultures. In fact, "China Town" is just a few blocks away from the "Little Italy".
At any case, the main problem right now is that Feliciano doesn't have a job and that stresses him out like hell. Because if there's something he hates it's being useless.
Not to mention that American food isn't as delicious as he had hoped, thankfully he doesn't have to eat it that much because he doesn't get out of Little Italy, but sometimes Ludwig would buy it "just to try".
And New York City is colder and colder with each day.
At that moment, the Italian is sitting on their bed trying to read out loud an Italian-English hand-made dictionary that the blond had nicely prepared for him a few days ago. He's supposed to memorize at least sixty verbs with their conjugates on past, present – progressive and perfect, of course – and future in a week because his companion instructed it, but the whole thing is only giving him a headache.
Everything would be better if Ludwig was there with him. Feliciano has always said that he's a social person and as such he needs his social contact and he learns better when being accompanied by someone.
"stay: stay… ed, stay, stay… ing" he repeats while reading the notebook "That one is easy. Next one read: read, read, reading" the brunette blinks twice "Wait, so read in past and perfect present is written the same way? How am I suppose to know in what time is conjugated?!"
In a moment of exasperation he throws away the notebook at the other side of the bed with a grunt escaping from his lips. He lets himself fall on the bed with a huff and passes his hands through his brown hair; his headache is getting worse by the second.
"How did Ludwig even manage to learn English?"
Feliciano remembers how years ago, when the blond decided to learn English, Ludwig was reading and repeating words again and again every single day for almost a year, he also took any opportunity to talk with English-speaking tourists on Venezia and, whenever he had the chance, listen to English music. Ludwig is so smart, he's always thinking in the future, unlike Feliciano that he's more of a "living the moment" guy.
The brunette lets go a sigh that came from the bottom of his lungs and sits down again, focusing his brown eyes on the window next to the bed. The sky is starting to get orange, which means that Ludwig is arriving any time soon.
The thought brings a smile to Feliciano's face.
He gets up from the bed and grabs a little pot from inside the oven, fills it with water from the sink and puts it on the stove, turning it on. Beer in the States isn't cheap and they aren't in any place to spend money on that, so Ludwig has to console himself with coffee. It's also been a while since last time Feliciano was able to have a decent plate of pasta.
The door opens a few minutes later, revealing the tall blond wearing a thin jacket over his white shirt.
"Welcome home, Ludwig!" Feliciano greets him with a wide smile "How was your day at work?"
"Same as always" the blond replies while leaving a paper bag on the bureau next to the bed, and then sitting on the mattress, moving his neck in order to crack it.
"Are you tired?" the brunette asks as he picks out a little jar with instant coffee from the cupboard.
"A little. Did you study?" Ludwig grabs the forgotten Italian-English notebook.
"I did, but then it gave me a headache so I stopped. I still can't believe how you did it, it's so hard" he pours the hot water on a brass cup with one teaspoon of coffee – no sugar, Ludwig doesn't like it like that –.
Ludwig grabs the cup when Feliciano offers it to him, blowing it cold a little before drinking from it.
"You knew it would be difficult" he says after it.
"I know, I know!" Feliciano whines and sits next to his lover, reclining his head over the other's shoulder "I'm sorry, Ludwig, I should have taken your advice"
"What matters now is that you're trying your best" he takes another sip from the brown liquid "I brought you dinner" he points to the paper bag on the bureau.
"What did you bring me?" he is honestly excited as he picks the bag. It smells very well.
When he opens it, he finds a plate covered with more brown paper and inside it there is a plate with pasta. It seems it was prepared with a little cream and coriander, it's still warm. The Italian feels like he could cry.
"Did you buy it?!" he asks without thinking.
"No, I accompanied the boss to an Italian restaurant for some delivery, and the owner gave me this as reward" the blond is smiling softly.
"Let's eat it together!" Feliciano gets up to grab two forks.
"No, Feliciano, eat it yourself, I already ate" the brunette turns around to see him and crosses his arms after placing the pasta plate over the table, making an angry pout.
"And what did you eat?" Ludwig doesn't reply immediately, in fact he diverts his blue eyes from the brown ones that are fixed on him, taking a sip of hot coffee from the cup.
The moment they arrived to New York City and Ludwig started to get money, he started to sometimes not eat or eat poorly in order to give bigger portions to the Italian. Feliciano of course nags him all the time for it, mainly because Ludwig is the one who needs it the most. He's the one with a job, not Feliciano.
"Ludwig?" the Italian insists, arching an eyebrow.
"I ate some bread" the blond clears his throat, still not looking at his lover "it was big"
Feliciano sighs and continues his walking to the cupboard, taking two forks back with him and the plate to the bed, sitting next to the blond.
"Eat" the brunette offers him the fork and Ludwig simply complies, maybe he's too tired to argue about it. After watching Ludwig take a portion of pasta and eating it, Feliciano does the same with a smile, he can't help but moan at the flavor.
"Mmmmh! It's so good!"
His whole body feels like he had just reborn. It's been so, so long since he had even smelled pasta and now having the opportunity to eat some is just a miracle direct from the heavens. He missed the soft consistency of the noodles, the spicy flavor of the pepper and the fresh aftertaste of the coriander, not to forget the cream that made the whole thing complete and moist. Feliciano chews it slowly with closed eyes, he wants to memorize all the sensations for future times. Even how it goes down his throat and fills his stomach with a warm feeling.
It's so good he almost cries.
"I could eat this everyday" Feliciano says, grabbing another bite of it "I should work on a restaurant, that way we could have better food all the time"
"I've told you a thousand times already" Ludwig interrupts "It's too dangerous"
"Even this restaurant?" he points at the plate with the fork.
"You don't know how it is out there. It's full of bad people just wanting to take advantage of people in need"
"They haven't approach you, though"
"Because I'm obviously not Italian"
Feliciano knows Ludwig is used to this. Even if his whole life he lived on Venezia, even if he speaks Italian, and even if his heart belongs to Italia, Ludwig wouldn't ever be a "true Italian". When they lived at Venezia, people would often mistake him for a tourist or someone like that and the fact that he speaks English didn't help either. His appearance gave him a disadvantage back in Italia, but in here – the States – it's a different story.
He's tall, muscly, white, and blond with blue eyes. He would pass as an everyday American if it wasn't for his obvious Italian-accent and his weird name. In any case, Americans immediately trusted Ludwig and his blond hair, that's part of why he was able to get a safer job outside Little Italy.
"It's just that…" Feliciano starts to say with a soft voice, with a tint of sadness, while shrugging and poking the pasta on the plate "You're doing all the work and…" he gulps to prevent a sob from escaping out of his throat "And I don't wanna be useless"
"You are not useless, Feliciano" the blond immediately responds. He takes the plate from the brunette's hands and puts it on the bureau so he's able of cupping the other's face "Listen, Feliciano, you are not useless. You never were and never will"
The Italian can't hold the tears anymore and closes his eyes, letting them fall freely by his cheeks.
"This isn't just for me. I work for the two of us" Ludwig's cheeks are bright red while talking, but it gets worse when he starts to softly kiss Feliciano's face "We're in this together, remember?"
The brunette holds his sobbing and opens his brown teary eyes, immersing himself at the icy blue irises that are looking at him with patience, comprehension, but most importantly, with love. He slowly nods.
"Together forever" he says with a broken soft voice.
"Forever" Ludwig corroborates with a small smile and a little kiss on the smaller man's lips, and lastly rests his forehead against the other's "How about we finish eating and then I help you study?"
"Aren't you tired?"
"It's more important that you speak English right now, so you can get a job outside of Little Italy. Let's do our best, alright?"
Feliciano cleans his eyes with the cuff of his shirt, smiles one last time and nods with enthusiasm.
"Yes!"
The sky is completely dark when they start to practice the brunette's English, luckily they have a lamp so they still are able to see what's on the notebook. Feliciano would often complain on how hard the language is. Who the heck thought it would be a great idea to have read and read written the same?! Ludwig explained that they are pronounced differently. That still didn't convince Feliciano of it being a smart move.
Yet, Feliciano is able to memorize the ten verbs – with all their conjugations – of the day and soon enough they are lying on the bed under the covers, hugging each other close to keep warm. Usually the blond is way too embarrassed to permit something like that, but New York City indeed is a cold city.
"Hey, Ludwig" the brunette calls his companion.
"Yes, Feliciano?" his voice sounds drowsy and sleepy, as if he is using all the rest of his strength to not fall asleep yet.
"What do you miss the most of Italia?" his face is hiding on Ludwig's chest so he can feel the other sighing over his brown hair.
"I don't know" he responds after a while "Maybe the weather"
"Yeah, New York is way too cold"
"Well, we arrived when winter was just beginning, so I guess it's actually our fault" he keeps quite for a moment "What do you miss the most?"
"The food" Ludwig chuckles softly at the answer "What? It's not the same! All Italian restaurants use American ingredients" he pouts at the thought of delicious real Italian food.
"You're right. I don't notice the difference that much, though"
"That's because you are not a food's lover like me!" Feliciano says with actual pride in the title.
"No, I prefer to be yours"
Feliciano's body freezes at what Ludwig just said and so does the blond's body when he realizes what he indeed said. Ludwig then tightens the hug and hides his face on the brunette threads that crowns the Italian's head, completely embarrassed. The other giggles a little because he knows for sure that the blond's face is as red as a tomato.
Ludwig doesn't usually say romantic things because he gets way too embarrassed about it, so whenever it happens it fills Feliciano's heart with warm feelings of happiness and satisfaction. The Italian obviously doesn't have any troubles for that, though, that's why he's often the one to recite loving words to his companion.
"I also prefer to be yours, Ludwig" he reciprocates with a whisper and a chaste kiss on the other's naked neck "I love you so much, it brings me the most happiness" more soft kisses are given.
Slowly, Ludwig's body begins to relax at the sweet treatment and his hands travel up and down on Feliciano's back.
"I'm glad you're with me, Ludwig" the Italian says still on a soft voice.
"Me too, Feliciano, me too" the blond whispers and finishes the confession with a kiss on the brunette's forehead "Let's go to sleep, Feliciano"
With a nod the smaller man finally closes his eyes and lets himself submerge into Morpheus' land; dreaming about endless rivers, salty air and warm sun.
The dark sky of the night soon is replaced by a grey color on it, full of clouds that don't let the Sun peek into the city so the air is cold and humid. Ludwig gets up before any of that happens because his job starts really early. Feliciano doesn't get up but wakes up anyways, talking and watching Ludwig getting ready, and when the blond finishes he gives the Italian a goodbye kiss on the lips to continue his way.
When the brown-eyed sees Ludwig part, he rests on the bed and sleeps for some more time, until said Sun it's up to the sky. His day begins with cleaning, Ludwig being a clean obsessed it's Feliciano's duty to keep the place spotless. It's not that hard of a job though, the apartment is small and they both don't really make a whole mess, but the Italian has noticed how the blond's face relaxes when he enters and smells the soft scent of soap in the air. It also helps Feliciano to not feel useless to their cause.
When he's about to begin cleaning, he discovers that the bar soap it's about to disappear from the use.
"I'll have to buy some more" Feliciano concludes, watching the little soap in his hand.
Talking alone is something that the Italian has done since forever. Thinking outloud, if you may. But he has noticed how it became more of a habit lately, since they arrived to the States. He guesses it's because he spends more time alone than before in Italia.
The Italian gets out of their apartment closing the door behind him, when doing so he almost trips over a little girl in the corridor, who giggles and stares at Feliciano. The little girl has brown long and curly hair, her eyes are big and amber that usually sparkled like a whole universe; this time she's carrying an old and kind of dirty rag doll.
"Hello, Bianca" the brunette greets the little girl "How are you?"
If he remembers correctly, Bianca was born in America. She's five years old and her parents arrived when the mother was pregnant with her. This family lives in the apartment in front of Ludwig and Feliciano's. Personally, Feliciano hasn't talked that much to the father because he's in the same condition as Ludwig – working all day – but he has talked to the mother – a sweet young woman of dark long hair –.
"I'm fine" Bianca responds with a wide smile and her childish voice "You almost fell down"
"Well, yeah, you were running in the corridor, weren't you?"
"Only a little" a giggle escapes from her tiny mouth and she hides the doll behind her back "Where are you going?"
"I'm going to the market"
Feliciano starts walking towards the stairs but then Bianca follows him.
"Can I go with you?" she asks.
"I don't think your mommy would like that, Bianca" he stops and looks at her "Go back to your mommy"
"But she's boring" the little girl pouts and crosses her arms.
"I'm not that fun either"
"Do you have any kids, Mr. Feliciano?"
The questioned almost chokes at the question. These kids and their sudden change of subject.
"No, I don't, Bianca" he answers after clearing his throat.
"Why? Aren't you married to Mr. Ludwig?"
This time the question makes Feliciano's cheeks to burn in red color. It's not that weird for Italian men immigrants to live together in a sole apartment, but they usually live in groups not in a pair like Feliciano and Ludwig are doing. Not to mention that Ludwig's non-Italian appearance doesn't help to the cause. The Italian wonders if other people talk about them behind their backs, maybe Bianca's family talk about "the weird couple that lives in front" when she's present and the girl simply concluded that the Italian and the blond are married, just like her mother and father.
"No, Bianca, we aren't married. Men can't marry, can they?" Feliciano fakes a laugh to go with his reply.
"I guess they can't" her face says she's heavily thinking about it "It's weird. If you love each other, why can't you marry? Like mama and papa"
Feliciano shrugs.
"I don't know, Bianca, the world is weird like that"
"Papa says you and Mr. Ludwig are weird" she says and Feliciano can't help but feel a hard sting in his heart.
This kind of hate isn't anything new to Feliciano. Back in Italia was somewhat the same, with strange looks and the casual whispering around them; thankfully they never received threats or anything like that. Feliciano suspects it's because of Ludwig's physique.
"But I don't think you're weird" Bianca continues speaking "And I like you, Mr. Feliciano. You are nice"
The adult smiles softly and says "Thank you, Bianca, I like you too"
That brings a wide smile to the little girl who even jumps a little, making her long hair move up and down.
"I need to go, Bianca. See you later, ok?"
"Yes!"
And so Feliciano turns his heels and walk to the stairs. He knows for sure that Bianca will grow up and learn what kind of "weird" he really is, and just God knows if she will continue to think he isn't weird. He knows the probability of that is null, having the father she has, but he can't help feel a little hopeful of future generations.
After getting out of the building, the brunette is received by a very busy street. If Feliciano closes his eyes and tries hard enough, he could imagine he is in Venezia all over again.
Italians will be Italians no matter where they are.
The air is full of a scent of food, spices, pasta, and vegetables. The people yell at each other instead of talking, not because they are mad but because Italians love to be noisy, with their hands moving all around them almost coordinated as if they are part of a musical. It's a Saturday, so the streets are full of running boys playing with pretended guns on their hands while the girls are sitting on the sidewalk with their simple dresses and rag dolls.
Feliciano continues to walk until he reaches his destination, a small local that sells all kind of home utensils and supplies. When he enters, a small bell announces his arrival.
"Hello!" a middle-aged man with a big nose and mustache welcomes him from the counter "Ah, Feliciano, you're back!"
"Hello, Mr. Giustino" the Italian greets back with a smile and gets closer to the counter "I'm buying some soap, please"
"Sure, Feliciano"
The man turns around behind him and grabs a white simple bar of soap, putting it on a bag of brown paper.
"How is that job hunting, Feliciano?" Mr. Giustino asks as he leaves the bag over the counter, waiting for the money.
"The same as always, sadly" Feliciano puts his hand inside his pocket, picking out money and counting it "My English sucks, so I can't even dream of getting a job outside Little Italy" when he counts the sufficient money, he places it over the counter, taking the paper bag.
"Why don't you just get a job inside Little Italy?" the man grabs the money and opens the cash register "That would be easy"
"My friend says it's a bad idea" the younger man says with a grin that didn't match his uncomfortable eyes "You know, because of safety"
"Mmmh, yes, makes sense" Mr. Giustino crosses his arms and nods slowly "I've heard that Lupo the Wolf is gonna be on trial for sixty murders" he whistles a little, looking nervous "Talk about busy life, huh?"
"That's… that's a lot of people killed" Feliciano could feel a shudder going down his back.
"Yeah, horrible shit. So maybe your friend isn't that wrong. Well," he lightly slams his hand on the counter "I hope your luck gets better, Feliciano"
"Thanks, Mr. Giustino"
"Maybe you should just marry a rich beautiful woman" Mr. Giustino says and then laughs loudly "That would be easy enough for you, being a handsome Italian man"
Feliciano just smiles at the joke, hoping that the older Italian can't read minds because right now he's remembering just how some days ago he was riding Ludwig on their bed.
"See you later, Mr. Giustino"
And with a final smile he goes outside of the store into the busy street once again, directing himself to his living place. It's then that he notices how the people outside looks more quiet than before, and even a little afraid, which it's kind of weird. But then Feliciano sees two tall Italian men, dressed in black and elegant suits with hats, and now everything makes sense. These men probably are part of the mafia, and everyone is afraid of them. Nobody dares to directly see them and prefer to act as if they aren't even there. That's the best course of action; you can't assure you'll be alive if you offend them by mistake.
So Feliciano just continues walking without looking at them, but sadly he has to pass them to get to his building. He walks fast and trying to look busy. When he passes by them, he lets a sigh escape from his lips.
He hadn't realized how fast his heart is beating until he's in front of his building.
"Excuse me"
A voice behind him calls him, it's an unknown voice that made his whole body shake. He slowly turns around and his heart stops when he discovers the two suited men looking at him directly.
"Yes?" his voice is trembling.
"Excuse me, Sir, but what are you doing here?" one of the men asks him. His familiarity confuses Feliciano.
"I… I live here?" it sounds like a question by mistake. Moving his brown eyes for a moment, he sees how everyone on the street is ignoring the scene on purpose; some even get away from them. Feliciano doesn't blame them, though; he would have done the same.
"Live here? I thought—" but he's interrupted by his companion, who slaps him on the arm.
"He isn't the Sir, look at him" the man says "His eyes are different"
"Huh?" he inclines his head a little to be able to see Feliciano's eyes "Oh, you're right. Damn, I could have sworn…"
"Why would the Sir be in here, anyways? He's from the Harlem"
"Yeah, you're right"
The little Italian just stares at both men who apparently completely forgot about him as they keep talking. He's still shaking and he feels he's about to burst into tears of how afraid he is. His home it's just behind him, just a few steps back and he will be safe, but he doesn't dare to move in front of this dangerous people. He doesn't even dare to say a peep in front of them.
"Well, sorry for the mistake, mister" one of the suited men says suddenly, looking at him.
Feliciano doesn't respond verbally, but shakes his head a little to show that it doesn't matter, he tries to smile but he can bet it looks awfully awkward. The men turn around and keep walking their way off; talking about meaningless things such as how expensive some salami is in the market.
His feet must be possessed because by the moment he regains control over his body, he's already at the apartment. His back is resting against the door and his breath heavy because his lungs are empty and trying so hard to get oxygen to the rest of the body, body that is still shaking.
The paper bag falls from his hands to the floor, making a thud sound on it.
Feliciano hates America.
It's about 2PM when Feliciano finishes cleaning the place. He usually doesn't take this long, but he felt so stressed out that he did a profound cleaning. He even cleaned the walls this time.
The bed feels fantastic when he lets himself plop on it, with his face burying on it. He's feeling ridiculously tired, his arms doesn't even respond well of how hard he scrubbed the floor and furniture. He's so tired he doesn't even feel like getting up to prepare something to eat.
What did those mafia guys want with him? Apparently nothing, apparently it was a mistake of them calling him out. Maybe they mistook him with someone else, they talked like that, right? Saying that no, that this "Sir" is from the Harlem. Feliciano guesses they were talking about the Italian Harlem, but he can swear on his life that he – Feliciano – has never nor will ever go to that dangerous place. Thankfully it seemed that the guys didn't want any trouble and just let him go in peace. They even apologized for their mistake!
The Italian has heard since Venezia that the mafia is actually a really organized group, full of honor code, and the family mentality is so deep and profound that they call each other "brothers" and "fathers". Feliciano thinks that they could achieve amazing things if they just used that power for good instead of being complete jerks terrorizing innocent people right and left wherever they go.
His thoughts are interrupted when he hears the door getting opened and closed, so he looks to it to discover his lover there, taking off his jacket.
"Ludwig!" Feliciano says with excitement.
Energy comes back to his body the moment he sees those blue eyes looking at him, so he gets up and throws himself to the other's arms.
There's no safer place than this one, between Ludwig's big and strong arms that tightly holds him as if he never wants to let go. Feliciano sure prays Ludwig never lets go. Everything will be alright as long as they stay together.
"You got out of work early today" the brunette says, still hugging the taller man.
"It's Saturday and the boss was feeling nice enough to let us go" the other replies "Feliciano, is something wrong?"
The Italian freezes and his whole body tenses. He isn't sure if he should tell Ludwig what happened in the morning with the two mafia guys. Maybe the blond would get even more paranoid and wouldn't allow him to go out of the apartment ever again, but then again, he doesn't like the idea of hiding something from his lover doesn't sound right. He's sure that if Ludwig was hiding something this important to him, he would be mad.
"Well…" the brunette starts to talk, releasing the blond from the hug "It's nothing important"
"Of course it is important" Ludwig looks around the room "You clean like this when you get unrest or nervous. And you haven't cooked anything, did you even get breakfast?"
Oh, that's right, he got so scared he didn't even remember to eat something. He just plain started to clean.
"So, what happened?" Ludwig asks once again, serious, but he doesn't sound mad but more like worried.
After sighing once, Feliciano starts to explain how he was about to start cleaning in the morning but discovered that the soap was almost gone, so he went to buy some more, stopping a little because he chatted with Bianca – "Front door's family girl, do you know her, Ludwig?" – she's such a doll, so full of light and laughter, she doesn't know a thing about anything bad in the world, must be nice to live like that – "No, Ludwig, I'm not rambling, this is important!" – so, after chatting a bit with the girl, he got outside the building and walked to the store – "There was a really pretty dog, it was big and fluffly. Yes, Ludwig, this is also important" – when he bought the soap, Mr. Giustino asked him if he already had a job and he obviously said no, then he suggested to marry a rich and pretty girl – "I mean, he's right, girls are beautiful, but I have you, Ludwig, don't worry! By the way, do you think Mr. Giustino can read minds? Yes, Ludwig, this part is also important, if not the most" – so when he was about to go back home, he spotted these two mafia guys and—
"Mafia guys?!" Ludwig interrupts the story, grabbing the Italian by the shoulders "Did they hurt you?!"
"No, no, Ludwig! I'm ok" he shakes his head, waving his hands in front of him "I'm ok, they just talked to me, relax"
"And what did they want?! Did they tell you to join them?" the blond looks agitated already.
"It seems they confused me with someone else, someone from the Harlem"
Ludwig then passes both his hands through his blond hair, looking nervous and, again, agitated. Feliciano thinks maybe he should try to calm him down somehow.
"It's ok, Ludwig, nothing happened and—"
"I should have been here" the other says, walking to the window with his hands still at the top of his head "I left you alone and this happens, I can't leave you alone"
This is what Feliciano didn't want to happen, Ludwig is blaming himself over something he can't control.
"No, Ludwig" the brunette murmurs as the same time he holds Ludwig from behind, rubbing his forehead on the broad back in front of him "You can't control these things, you simply can't be in control of everything, and you know that, right?"
Ludwig's heart is beating so fast that even Feliciano can feel it through the back.
"And, I mean" the Italian continues talking "It's the same risk we had back at Venezia, isn't it?" he shrugs, trying to sound calm because even he knows that it's not the same risk.
It's not the same risk because at Italia, the whole country is obviously full of Italians that are ambitious enough to enter the mafia on their own. Here in New York, Italians' population isn't the same as back there. And the huge majority doesn't want anything to do with that kind of business, so the mafia has come to terms to sometimes invite other people if they look trustworthy enough, or desperate enough.
"So, don't worry, Ludwig. In fact, it's the very first time I even see the mafia in this place, so it's ok" Feliciano places a soft kiss between Ludwig's back blades "How about we eat?"
They cook and eat in silence.
When Feliciano is about to start washing the dishes, Ludwig grabs him from behind, by the middle, and burying his face on the brown hair.
"Leave them" the blond says on a whisper.
"But you don't like it when there are dirty dishes" the brunette replies with a giggle.
"I don't care right now"
His hands start to travel up and down Feliciano's chest and torso and the Italian finally understand what the blond wants. Ludwig has never been good with words. He's analytical, logical and really good at business, but the moment someone asks him to describe what the sunlight feels like he simply can't put the words to function correctly.
Surely the blond is feeling sad, or guilty, or the idea of the very real possibility of losing Feliciano is tormenting him after the Italian told him what happened in the morning. So he wants to make sure the brunette knows just how much important he's on the blond's life.
Of course Feliciano already knows that, though, even if Ludwig doesn't say it verbally. He knows and reaffirms it every time Ludwig goes out of their place to go to work. But the Italian won't grab away the blond's intention of demonstrating it in any way.
Feliciano turns around to face his lover and kisses him, passing his arms behind the other's neck to hold him close. He can feel Ludwig's hot body against his, pushing him into the counter where the sink with the forgotten dirty dishes is.
Ludwig bites his lips lightly, making him sigh and open his mouth to permit the blond to go further. Ludwig's tongue starts to play with his own after that. With a pull, the blond begins to direct him into the bed but turning on his heels so the Italian falls first over the furniture.
The Italian's breath is already heavy and with half-open eyes he looks at Ludwig who is still standing next to the bed.
"Come to me, Ludwig" Feliciano invites, extending his arms towards his companion that promptly accepts and position himself over the smaller body, kissing him again.
With a slow rhythm, Ludwig's hands start to caress his sides while his lips go down to the neck, biting and licking. Feliciano usually is pretty active when they get intimate, but he suspects that what Ludwig needs is this so he can express what he feels thoroughly. So the Italian just lies there, feeling how his body gets hotter and hotter with every kiss and touching over his body. His back arches when the blond teases both of his nipples over the shirt with a pinch of his fingers, his mouth opens with a moan that he hopes it's low enough for their neighbors to not hear.
"Feliciano…"
He can hear Ludwig's voice, hot and deep against his right ear, just a whisper that tingles in his ear like a pray to his own existence. Feliciano moves his hands to Ludwig's back, stroking softly the broad muscle over him as he feels how the other man start to unbutton his shirt, quickly but slowly enough to make him feel desperate for more.
When his chest is exposed the blond's lips go lower and starts teasing with the tongue to one of the pink buds in there, using his hand for the other one. The Italian's pants are getting tight in no time and now Feliciano feels like drowning and as if his whole being is being restrained inside his body. Ludwig's fingertips slowly pass by his now naked sides and they feel like they are burning his skin alive.
Feliciano is so out due to the sensation that he doesn't realize that Ludwig removed his pants until the cold air in the room brings him back.
"Why aren't you wearing underwear?" Ludwig asks him, his voice sounds slightly flustered. Maybe the idea of Feliciano walking around without underwear makes him worry.
"I didn't feel like it" the Italian replies and then giggles "Maybe I read your mind this morning and knew you would do this"
"What is it with you and mind reading today?..."
But Feliciano doesn't reply because his mouth is now busy with moaning and gasping, as Ludwig starts to pump his hard dick up and down, opening his legs to take his rightful place between them. Feliciano's eyes go down to the blond's crotch, that looks tight, and then he sits to move his hands to undo the pants buttons, pulling them down, along with the underwear, just enough to be able to grab Ludwig's dick, teasing the already wet slit on its head.
"Fuck, Feliciano" Ludwig says on English and the Italian has to suppress a giggle. He knows that that word is a swear on English.
"What was that, Ludwig?" his hand starts to go up and down the hot member, slowly.
Ludwig's face turns even redder at the question; maybe he's embarrassed for swearing. What a giant dork.
With a last kiss on the other's lips, Feliciano gets away from Ludwig and lies on the bed, with his stomach under him, resting his weight on his elbows and lifting his butt a little.
"C'mon, Ludwig" he pleas on a whisper and can easily hear Ludwig's hard gulping behind him.
"You aren't prepared" the other reminds.
"Then prepare me" brown eyes turn towards the bureau, and soon a big hand is opening the drawer, taking out a little jar of Vaseline.
If Feliciano could choose something from sex to skip, it would be this part. It's not like he doesn't like it, but it's kind of tedious to do it every single time they have sex.
The room is filled with the perfumed aroma of the Vaseline the moment Ludwig opens the jar. Suddenly, Feliciano feels Ludwig's first finger caress his ass. It's slow and teasing, without putting it inside, just covering the muscle with the greasy substance. Little kisses are scattered along his back, kisses that soon transformed into bites and licks that made Feliciano's skin tremble in anticipation. His breath once again heavy and slow and God, Ludwig, please hurry up.
Then he feels something else in his ass cheek, something wet and hot and Feliciano knows it's Ludwig dick under his big hand to push it against the soft muscle. The blond starts to move his hips in order to rub his glans against Feliciano's cheek. For some reason, Ludwig is pretty entranced on his butt – Feliciano guesses it's because it's perfect, but that's just his humble opinion – but the brunette doesn't complain at all about that.
Finally the first finger is inside of him and it feels so intrusive and alien to him, not in a negative way but Feliciano can't simply get used to the sensation. He doesn't know if he wants to ever get used to it, though.
After a while of teasing, moving and fingering his hole, Ludwig continues with the second finger, now scissoring to make it big enough for the next step. By then, Feliciano is already moaning softly against the pillow, trying to bite his lips to not make a lot of noise.
He wants to beg for more, he wants to tell Ludwig to just shove his dick in, that he needs it, but he knows it would be useless because the blond refuses to do anything before appropriately preparing him. Feliciano knows it's for the best and when his hormones and sexual desire goes down, he will understand that doing that would be risky, but right now his brain isn't working all that correctly because Ludwig's fingers inside his ass are so good but not good enough.
Thankfully, from there everything goes faster, maybe because Ludwig himself is also starting to feel restless. So the third and last finger goes in and it's then that Feliciano has to bury his face completely on the pillow to not scream.
"Ludwig, do it now, please, do it" Feliciano forgets his previous decision and starts pleading, his voice sounds muffled against the pillow but it's easy to spot the amount of desire it has.
"Almost there, Feliciano" Ludwig's voice is also hasty and heavy. He moves his fingers faster and that makes the Italian to sink on his shoulders and moan on the pillow, clenching his fists on the soft cushion.
"I—I'm ready, Ludwig, I'm ready already" he actually isn't exactly sure if he's really ready, though.
That seems to suffice the blond's strict standars, because he removes the finger from his ass, covering his dick with a layer of Vaseline and finally grabbing Feliciano's butt with a hand while the other directs the hard member to the Italian's entrance.
It's painfully slow and Feliciano knows Ludwig is doing it just to drive him crazy because it's actually entering pretty smoothly and without any trouble or pain. So Feliciano decides to take matters into hands and he himself moves his hips so his butt meets with Ludwig's pelvis, bringing a grunt out of his lover's lips. Feliciano, on the other hand, buries once again his face into the pillow to scream.
"Oh, God!" his muffled scream sounds "Move, Ludwig, I want more!"
That works like a charm because the taller man begins to move, placing now both hands on the ass cheeks, and not making his lover wait this time and having a strong pace that literally makes Feliciano to continue screaming.
Ludwig has never told him to hold his screaming, not even when they are supposed to be silent – like right now – maybe because seeing and hearing Feliciano like this is actually a turn on for him, after all, Feliciano is an expert with his voice. And, at any case, it's Feliciano himself who tries to suppress the yelling out of his mouth.
"So good, L—Ludwig!" he continues to yell to the pillow "It feels so good! Mmmh!"
By his side, Ludwig has always been the silent kind of lover. Only gasps, whispers, soft moans and grunts ever come from his lips, that he sometimes bites.
The known pressure starts to prowl on his pelvis, announcing the near ending of this act.
"I'm going to come, Ludwig!"
"Fuck!"
The blond grunts loud enough for Feliciano to hear while moving his hips faster and stronger, and that's everything he needs to finish, yelling his lover's name as he feels the hot semen coming out of his dick into the bed, smearing the cover. It doesn't completely end there because the blond continues to thrust into him strongly until he comes inside of him.
The room goes silent except for their heavy and tired breaths, still not moving from their positions.
"Feliciano" the blond calls his name with a trembling voice.
"Mmmh?" his throat is honestly killing him from all that yelling.
"I love you, Feliciano"
The Italian's heart jumps into the roof and even if his throat indeed is killing him, he feels like yelling all over again. He does his best to turn his face to the side and smiles to the other man.
"I love you too, Ludwig"