For the 74th anniversary of the Pact of Steel pinky swear :)
Enjoy!
The sound of rain falling upon Berlin from above ground brought down a weary feel upon Ludwig, drearier than usual. After he had moved out of his parents' house to an apartment that his grandfather had bought for him, his life had consisted of nothing but work and eat and sleep. He had a degree in business from the Berlin School of Economics and Law, and as soon as he had finished, he had gotten his first internship in one of the biggest business corporations in the German capital. Besides the fact that he had to take metro to get there, it was a very enjoyable experience so far after almost two years of waiting.
Ludwig looked up from the paper he was reading when he heard a babble of German and what was most likely Italian, garbled as words jumped from either language. Not far away from here, there was a middle-aged German woman and the other male, the latter frantically helping the other pick up some fallen papers and books. She wasn't saying anything, but he wouldn't stop apologizing and flipping from German to Italian and asking what she spoke. It was pitiful to watch, yet amusing at the same time. Ludwig snorted at the sight, yet found himself unable to look away from the sight. He didn't know if it was the amusement in the way the Italian begged for her not to kill him because "German women are scary and tougher than I am but they have nice breasts" or if it was the fact that the male was stumbling backwards off the platform.
Quickly thinking, the German male lunged forward and grasped the Italian's suit. A screech of fear ripped from the other male's throat as they stepped back, the train finally pulling in and coming to a stop. Ludwig stood in silence, the brunet beside him panting and looking from the train to the blond.
"Grazke," he said softly, stumbling over his words as his eyes widened at what he had done. "Err, danke, es tut mir, uhh...est tut, um"
"Va bene," he assured the other, picking up his newspaper which he had dropped before.
The Italian's eyes only seemed to become bigger. "Oh! You speak Italian!"
Ludwig nodded. His parents had made sure that he knew at least five languages, aside from his native language, fluently. "I taught myself at home and from my grandfather."
"Oooh...it's so rare to find Italian speakers in Germany, I mean, there are probably a ton of them but they aren't nice to me sometimes because I bump into them and they drop their stuff and then I feel bad because I forget German words sometimes and when I try to hug them to apologize, they look at me like I'm being too loud and walk away and then I feel guilty but at least your food tastes great-"
"What are you doing here?" Ludwig intervened, gazing at the other in confusion. He was speaking too fast for him to understand it properly. Italians were always too excited and hyper for him.
The little Italian smiled and laughed before fishing a rugged piece of paper out of his pocket. "When I was a little boy, nonno used to take me to Berlin and play with someone that I haven't seen since then. I'm going to meet him at his work and surprise him."
As Ludwig gazed at the paper, he realized that the name of the person the Italian to find was himself. Ludwig. He looked back up at the shorter and recognized the hair curl and wide eyes and little giggle. He remembers them playing games and painting and when he had to move back to Berlin, but he remembers the hair curl, and the way he moved his hands. Ludwig remembers falling in love at such a young age with this face, Feliciano, of course, Feliciano, but he had always believed that Feliciano was Felicia. Felicia was the girl that still visited him at night, the person that brought away his sadness and showed him the light that was bright and gentle and made him smile. Felicia was the girl that had given him a broom and a candlestick, along with a jar of tomato sauce "for the pasta".
Felicia, however, was never Felicia. She was he; she was Feliciano.
Their transportation had already boarded and was leaving the station; the Italian frowned after it as it left. "Eheh, well...I can always catch the next one," he smiled. "Ludwig will be happy to see me either way."
"Ja...he will." Ludwig found himself unable to reply with any other words than this. He was still under the shock that his little friend was, in fact, male...and that he didn't have an issue with that. "He is."
Before Feliciano could even question what he meant, he found himself connecting his lips with the Italian, found himself delving into the smell of garlic and pasta and onions, the feel of his skin and the texture of his hair the same from their childhood. The kiss was too short, and his urge to talk to him more was too large, and he broke away before pulling Feliciano with him, the shorter babbling in joy and tears, speaking of how relieved he was to have found him after so many years. Ludwig decided then that he wasn't going to go into work today. He was busy with more important things than hearing about business this and that all day; better yet, he had an Italian to "grazke" for never forgetting him.