Lovino gazed at the motel ceiling. Ludwig was talking to Feliciano in the bathroom; he usually did, trying to smother the conversation with his hand. Lovino could still hear the quiet reassurances, the pleading tones. Maybe Ludwig knew he could hear.
It was a miracle they hadn't been caught. Skulking around in limos, breakfasts in dirty motels—it should have been a field day for the reporters. But there was nothing in the headlines. Just motel ceilings and whispered conversations.
One morning, over watery coffee, Lovino asked who Ludwig loved more.
"I just want to know. I mean," Lovino looked at the spot of the newspaper where Ludwig's face must have been, "Obviously you love one of us more."
The newspaper tightened in Ludwig's hands. "Lovino, please. I can't do this today."
Lovino felt his anger bubbled in his stomach. He made his voice calm, his eyes half lidded. "Do what, Ludwig? It's just a question."
Ludwig set the newspaper down, massaging his eyes with one hand. That was one thing Ludwig never did when he was with Feliciano—no, with Feliciano, he only had a set smile. At least Lovino could get a reaction. Something out of Ludwig.
"It's different, I've told you," Ludwig said, voice still loud and distinct, even when he didn't want to be talking. "I can't love one of you 'more.'"
Lovino gritted his teeth. "Yes, you can. How can you not have a favorite Vargas brother? Everyone does."
But maybe Ludwig didn't love either of them more.
He needed Feliciano for the press releases, the homemaker husband who could laugh about the most recent fundraiser and bake cookies for school events. Ludwig had come out during his campaign, and had proposed to Feliciano near the election.
Feliciano had admitted later that it had been his idea, and that Ludwig had to practice for weeks to propose without fumbling the speech or getting tense with nerves.
The bathroom door opened. Lovino listened to the quiet noises that Ludwig made as he got dressed. Lovino sat up, watched Ludwig's form in the dark. No breakfast this time, just like the last time.
"What did he want?" Ludwig's shoulders tensed. "Is he still suspicious? Can only run off to so many meetings before he catches on. He's not that stupid."
Ludwig checked himself in the dingy mirror in the corner of the room. It was cracked, and someone had written a phone number in greasy lipstick that management hadn't quite washed off. Someone in the next room was talking loudly in Spanish.
Ludwig looked too clean against the rest of the room. Like a negative. Lovino clambered out of bed and walked behind Ludwig. The man didn't move from in front of the mirror. Lovino rested his forehead in between Ludwig's shoulder blades. The tension drained from Ludwig's body and he sighed.
"He was upset some reporters came knocking around. They wanted to know where I was and why I was seen somewhere around that motel near that diner." Ludwig moved, probably fixing his hair.
"Is it bad?" Lovino closed his eyes, enjoying the proximity. He wondered if Feliciano ever asked Ludwig about his job. Would Feliciano even understand? What's a filibuster, what's a stalemate, what does a tea party have anything to do with it?
"Jones has been raising hell. God, they're all raising hell. I have a meeting later today with an old friend. Something might be worked out." A beat of silence. Ludwig's phone beeped, and Lovino moved away.
Lovino sank back into the warm covers. "Don't go. You've been making excuses too, you know. Not so fun after the first few months, is it?" He leered at Ludwig's weary look. "Married to your job."
It had been fun at first. It had been flirting. Whenever Lovino visited Feliciano, he would catch Ludwig looking at him, asking questions about obscure things Feliciano had told them.
"I heard that you're being audited," Ludwig had said one day. They were waiting for Feliciano to gather his things for a speech the president was giving. "How is that?"
Lovino grinned. "Long and hard."
"I'm not in the mood for your snark." Ludwig's voice was icy as he pulled on his jacket. He nodded vaguely at Lovino before leaving.
Lovino pulled a pillow over his head. Ludwig would probably pay the tab for the room. They had gotten in at two, so maybe three hours? Motels were a God-send. Cheap, and they didn't ask questions when two well-dressed men wanted a room for the night.
The sheets still smelled of Ludwig and Lovino kicked them off.
I should perhaps warn you this is the last chapter I have written.
So, it's a mystery when the next chapter will be. Gonna' be a doozy though.