After returning home, Ludwig goes out for his usual run. He runs about 10km every day. He's tried a few marathons in the past, but they weren't for him. He prefers competitive sports. There's a certain thrill to winning something, and proving yourself better than everyone else. Really, he runs to keep himself sane. Physical exertion is extremely relaxing for him, it's the only sure way to stop stress from building up. It's a built in part of his life since his army days, but he always feels like he's not pushing himself hard enough without the strict discipline of army command to keep him on track. He misses the sense of purpose he had then.

Follow these orders. Do it well. Move up the food chain.

( In the more strenuous days of beyond the army. The days he doesn't try to dwell on too often and tries desperately to leave behind. Not because of the things he did but because of how right it felt to push himself to the limits every day, and reach those goals that no one else could. Complete the missions that no one else could. And the sense of purpose in his life.)

Now he floats. He wonders why he gets up in the morning, when he knows he won't have achieved anything by the time he gets back into bed. Food tastes bland. It's far more exciting when you've had a hard day's training to really build up an appetite for a meal. And a desire to actually eat it.

Or at least, he did. And then suddenly - Feli. Like a bright little spark of interesting in an otherwise pointless existence that just went on and on endlessly. Feli. Out of fucking nowhere. It makes no sense whatsover, because Ludwig knows that the universe has never granted him anything good, anything, so why this?

He's never had any reason to believe that some bullshit 'greater entity' or fate existed. But honestly, good things don't just come out of nowhere. Which leaves him both deeply suspicious and insanely curious. It leaves him wanting to know more. To find the catch that he must have missed.

Which is why, when the sweaty and exhausted German returns to his spartan abode, he sits and stares at his phone rather than jumping in the shower. What should he even say?

' Hi, I know I slept over and you were drunk, but I want to understand what is wrong with you. Would you like to…meet up for dinner tomorrow, or something?'

He can't possibly say that.

'Hey Feli, meet up for dinner tomorrow?'

Too succinct?

'Hello, I have a suspicion you may turn out to be awful, but to double check I would like to meet up with you for coffee, tomorrow. Good?'

Not good.

'Hi Feli, I want to see you again, is tomorrow okay?'

This is impossible.

'Feli, you are too good to be true. Go out with me. Tomorrow night. Dinner. Make up for failed drinks yesterday.'

That won't work. God dammit.

He throws his phone across the room in frustration. Luckily not too hard, it doesn't hit anything with significant impact (luckily - he's broken too many things in this fucking flat) and storms off to shower. If it were possible for a person to have an 'angry shower' then Ludwig definitely achieves it: seeing how hard he can frown through the entirety of the shower, resolutely refusing to enjoy the hot, steamy water on his skin.

A few hours of productive pondering, he accidentally clicks send. The message to Feli reads: 'Dinner tomorrow? To make up for the failed drinks yesterday.' after which point he thinks fuck it. It's too late to go back now. I'll just…leave it.

He promptly buries his phone in the sofa cushions, and tries desperately not to just sit there like he was waiting for a reply or anything. His logic is that if it's buried he won't think about it as much.

—

Feli has never been so proud of himself in his life. He has managed to not call Ludwig for four whole hours.

That is a previously unheard of feat, right there. But, naturally, the longer those hours stretched on the harder it became to resist that nagging pull that is driving his brain around in circles.

And then, it becomes impossible to resist, when he receives and actual fucking text from the stupid German later that day. He was going so strong. Why did Ludwig have to go and ruin it all?

Ludwig picks up on the second ring. His 'Hello?' is slightly too loud.

'Oh, um, hi Ludwig. I was just calling because well, I am sorry about last night, I really am, oh, Ludwig you have to forgive me, I swear I didn't mean to pole dance at all it's just, it was the same bar and I hope you haven't gone off me or anything because I don't want you to and that was so stupid and I'm sorry and I would love to go out with you tomorrow yes please thank you so much Ludwig, I'm sorry, and - '

'Ok, ok, Feli, Feli - calm down.'' That finally disrupts the Italian.

'There is no need to freak out. It would be…very nice to see you for dinner. Tomorrow.' Ludwig says.

Feli cannot believe his luck. The rising surge of joy is unbelievable.

'Really? I...would love that too. Very much. Wow. I know the perfect little Italian place, I mean, it's not as good as the proper home deal, but still, Lovino isn't that bad and I can usually get a discount because I introduced him to his Spanish boyfriend and they have proper wine there which will be really nice, Oh perfect, Ludwig, what time?'

There's a beat of silence, in which Feli assumes Ludwig takes a second to digest his stream of consciousness.

'Um, yes. That sounds good. Yes. Um, text me the address? I'll meet you at 8?'

'Yes! Perfect. I'll see you then, Ludwig, bye!' and he hangs up as fast as possible. His chest is thumping viciously, in what he hopes isn't an unhealthy way. (Death by excitement: not the worst way to go.)

And then. Well. What the hell just happened.

So Ludwig not only still likes him, which is an unbelievable miracle in of itself considering how much of his weird he has revealed, but Ludwig definitely just asked him out. Tomorrow. What.

More soon, just awaiting beta-ing. Things get intense and shmexy...