TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: none
It is Wednesday, 7:56 PM, one month, thirty days, twenty hours, and one minute after It happened.
They're both back on normal work schedules. Feliciano uses his Mondays off and Friday afternoons to go to fencing classes, and from what Ludwig hears, he's improving. Ludwig has started running again in the morning, and on Carmen's advice he might join a gym.
He might also run home today, but that has less to do with exercise and more to do with the fact that it's a bad day and he already stayed past closing to do the clean-up and let Mei go home early because Ludwig really didn't want to go home during rush hour when the streets were full of people looking.
Placing the last dish back in its proper place, Ludwig squeezes his eyes shut for a second. He's mopped the floors, twice, all the dishes are clean, so are the sink and counters, and he should lock up and leave before Feliciano starts worrying and there is no possible excuse to stay any longer except.
Outside.
God damn it, he should be over this, why isn't he, why is he so weak, why can't he do this, Ludwig should be able to open the door and lock it behind him and walk down the street and follow the route back to the apartment but every time he reaches for the handle his hand trembles and he retracts it with hot shame creeping up his throat. Pathetic.
Ludwig grits his teeth, remembers how Sakura had told him I know about that, everybody thinks they are being watched. I did. I do, sometimes. but she could still walk to classes like normal, remembers Feliciano after the trial— so brave, so strong— and bites down on his tongue while he pushes the door open and locks it behind him. One hand still grips at the handle, and he eases it off and glances around, sure someone noticed his odd behavior.
The street is half-empty, late May night sky stained with cloud and city lights, and there is the faint murmur of people going about their Wednesday nights, and nobody is looking at him.
Yet, whispers a voice, but once they notice you—
Ludwig wheels around and begins walking down the street, nearly a march, and reminds himself that this is a Wednesday night, anybody out now certainly isn't bothering themself with him, you should be able to do this.
He still feels eyes at his back and something curls in his stomach, but it's— it could be manageable. He can do this.
Ludwig makes it nearly two-thirds of the way home before he really has to run, but that's an achievement on a bad day, and he makes himself think on that instead of what the other pedestrians must've thought (although it doesn't go away, but Sakura had said it really didn't sometimes).
It'll do.
It is Thursday, 9:51 PM, two months, seven days, twenty-one hours, and fifty-six minutes after It happened.
Feliciano will have to broach the subject sometime. Sometime. He'll have to.
Honestly, he feels a little selfish about it, but one reason is he misses touching and kissing like he and Ludwig used to, before It, and showers are always more fun when he can wash Ludwig's hair too, and he misses the sight of after when Ludwig is breathless and quick to smile and completely beautiful, and he just wants Ludwig to feel safe around him and know he can trust Feliciano and maybe please take his shirt off?
"What?" Ludwig looks at him from his position cross-legged on the bed, setting down his book.
"Um." Feliciano toes at the carpet. "I was thinking maybe we could try to get you used to not wearing all your clothes all the time especially since summer's coming and, um, you, I think you need to know it's not something shameful or anything especially since it's just me and I've seen it before and shirts seem like a good place to start and also maybe I could give you a backrub because you're looking really tense all the time and that could help," and he's blabbering, time to stop and not overload Ludwig. "So. Um. That's what I was thinking." He looks up sheepishly. "And, um, if it helps I'll take mine off too, so. Um."
Ludwig looks at him unreadably, and Feliciano hurries over to sit next to him, and slowly, a little shakily, Ludwig reaches up and begins to unbutton his shirt. Sighing in relief, Feliciano pulls his own over his head and takes Ludwig's hands when he folds them in his lap and hunches his shoulders a bit defensively.
"Look at me," Feliciano gently says— a request, not an order— and smiles at him. Ludwig does, and relaxes a tiny bit. "There. See? It's fine. Also can I hug you?"
"All right."
Feliciano does so, very enthusiastically, and he's missed the warmth of Ludwig's skin so much, and they stay like this for however long, Feliciano's not too good with time, and his hands begin to knead at Ludwig's back of their own accord. He's really kind of tense, Ludwig tended to stress out before It and It just made it worse, and Feliciano nudges him into turning around and digs his thumbs into the space between Ludwig's shoulderblades, pushing.
He talks about his day as he moves his hands up across to Ludwig's shoulders, about the tourists who've started coming now it's summer, and the student group he had to lead this morning who all definitely wanted to be on break and telling them about anything is tough, let alone Gothic devotional art, and Mrs. Karpusi had announced that summer hours will start in two weeks so he'll be out late a lot, sorry, and I'm going to crack your back right now it might hurt— don't tense up!— okay, there, you're doing great, you know?
Ludwig shifts. "I, uh, feel better now, but I think that's enough."
"M'kay." Feliciano flops forwards against him, nuzzling into his neck. "Can you do my back now?"
"I don't really know how—"
"You'd be good at it," mumbles Feliciano, "you've got great hands." He can feel Ludwig flush slightly and say something indistinctly.
Ludwig does oblige eventually, and Feliciano drifts off in the middle, feeling the best he has in quite a while.
Ludwig's hands have stopped shaking.
It is Monday, 7:34 PM, two months, seventeen days, nineteen hours, and thirty-nine minutes after It happened.
Carmen and Sakura and Felicja are coming over for dinner, and Felicja is bringing Julija, and of all the days for Feliciano to forget to clean up after himself in the kitchen—!
Ludwig scrubs harder at the countertop in a futile effort to remove tomato sauce stains, grumbling to himself as Feliciano sets the lasagna and string beans on the table set for six, which was a squish. It's the first time they'll meet Feliciano or see their apartment, and really the place should be clean on principle.
"Ludwig, it's fine," Feliciano says, hurrying to answer the doorbell— oh God the doorbell rang, and it's Carmen and Sakura and Ludwig did not think of what could happen with Carmen and Feliciano in the same room, but now he is thinking of it and dear Lord.
He follows the sound of introductions being made to the front door and catches Carmen squishing Feliciano's cheek and Sakura looking perturbed. "Ah. Hello."
Sakura nods at him, taking off her flats, and Carmen has let go of Feliciano's face to shake Ludwig's hand. "Why didn't you introduce him earlier," she smiles, "he's adorable!"
Grinning, Feliciano shuffles his feet and turns to Sakura.
Felicja and Julija show up five minutes later, and everybody seems to hit it off quite well with Feliciano especially when they sit down to eat and taste the lasagna. Carmen, Felicja, and Feliciano carry about three-quarters of the conversation during and after dinner.
At multiple points during said conversations, Ludwig, Julija, and Sakura share looks of extremely mutual understanding and sympathy.
"They were nice," Feliciano mumbles later, in bed. "Should do that again."
"Mn," Ludwig agrees.
It is Sunday, 10:02 PM, three months, one day, twenty-two hours, and seven minutes after It happened.
Feliciano is keeping another list.
It reads:
Shirt off: Success IIIIII Not I
Shirt and pants: Success III Not II
Shower together: Success I Not I
Cuddles: Success IIIIIIIIII Not 0 (without some clothes: success IIIII not I)
He doesn't show Ludwig this list for fear of pressuring him into filling up the 'success' lines even if he doesn't want to.
The time they'd showered together had been pretty great, though, and he'd even got to make Ludwig's hair funny shapes with the shampoo. The other time… Ludwig had nearly frozen up and then said "Leave, please" in a low voice and wouldn't talk about it afterwards.
Tonight, he is going to try for no-shirt cuddling, since it's been smooth sailing lately— the past three days have been good, he got to meet Julija again and she had advice even if it was quiet and Ludwig brought home extra cake from the café and the tour groups today were great except for the one kid but there's always the one kid and Feliciano is just in a very good mood.
So he presents his plan to Ludwig and they lie chest-to-chest on the couch and drink decaf even though Feliciano feels it's just a bit sacrilegious but he doesn't want to be up too late.
"I think I'll visit Lovino tomorrow," he says. "Haven't seen him in a while."
Ludwig nods and wraps his arms around Feliciano, who runs his hands up Ludwig's back and settles down.
He likes Ludwig's back, it's very smooth and very pale and his shoulderblades look nearly delicate and there are little dips at the small of it and seeing it means Ludwig trusts him. It feels warm under his fingertips.
"Gilbert's been asking after you," Ludwig says quietly. "He'd like to see you sometime."
"Could probably do that." Feliciano yawns and tries to think of what else to say. "There's a tournament coming up in about two months, if you want to show up and be the fair damsel whose favors I carry—"
Ludwig pulls back and flicks him on the nose. "I am not a damsel."
"Look good in aprons, though— hey!"
"Well, your name would be Sir Feliciano the Noodle-Armed—"
It's like normal.
It is Tuesday, 6:00 AM, three months, three days, six hours, and five minutes after It happened.
Ludwig preemptively turns off his alarm clock.
Next to him, Feliciano is sprawled out in his boxers, and the sight is endearing as usual— round face, curly hair, little smile— but it brings a twinge of nervousness to Ludwig's stomach.
Eventually they'll have to talk about sex, and they'll have to talk about It, and every time he thinks of sex with Feliciano he thinks about the part of It that still sends his guts into twisting knots and makes him so, so guilty inside even though logically he couldn't have helped it but still it happened—
He doesn't want to connect that with Feliciano, to taint him by association, and still the thought of being touched like that sends shivers up and down his spine. And then Feliciano will be disappointed, which is bad, and try to hide it, which is worse, and—
The forums and Felicja and Carmen all say take your time, go slow.
Ludwig stares at the ceiling, mouth dry from sleep, and decides that coffee and a run should help.
He changes silently, makes coffee and leaves some for Feliciano (who is still dead to the world), and sets off on the path he's taken ever since they moved here. By the end of his run, his thoughts have cleared up, although his worries have not, and Feliciano is still out cold. Ludwig wakes him, points him towards the coffee, and takes a shower.
If he can't walk around in a towel where Feliciano can see without nerves rolling up in his stomach, how is he supposed to talk about sex?
Ludwig tries to think encouraging thoughts about this, like you managed it your first time and didn't die of embarrassment, but then he had just been operating through a fog of mild terror and crippling awkwardness and hadn't been liable to freeze up if Feliciano touched him wrong. You'll figure it out eventually could work, and Feliciano tends to be up-front about these matters, and the little voice that says you should have figured it out already, really, at this point you're just being selfish he tries to block out.
When he leaves the bathroom, hair damp, Feliciano smiles at him from the table.
Ludwig resolves to start his own list of how to talk about this.
It is Thursday, 3:42 PM, three months, five days, fifteen hours, and forty-seven minutes after It happened.
Feliciano loves Alfred's July Fourth parties, even though he's not big on Miley Cyrus, but there's a lot of food and a lot of people and they get to watch fireworks later from his backyard and Lovino and Gilbert got invited too and the one is trying to chat up one of Alfred's coworkers and the other is complaining about the beer and Ludwig is talking to Katyusha with the sort of intimidated air he gets around her.
Feliciano is currently trying to see how many watermelon slices he can eat before he gets bored of it, which isn't much because Alfred shows up right next to him.
"Feli! Long time no see!"
"Hello, Al."
Alfred crunches some corn chips. "Lud doing okay?"
"Much better." Feliciano smiles to himself.
"Great! Hey, whoa, your brother's trying to pick up Lotte!" Alfred cranes his neck, trying to see past the snack table. "Think he's got a chance?"
"Could be," Feliciano shrugs. "I don't know her, though."
"Man, he blushes."
Feliciano giggles.
Later, he finds Ludwig sitting by the fence, staring contemplatively at his slice of cake (red, white, and blue, and a bit too much frosting), and sits down next to him.
"Alfred," Ludwig begins, "is a wonderful person, but he has literally no taste in confectionery." He prods the cake with his fork.
Hm'ing, Feliciano leans against him. "Do you like the party, though?"
Ludwig nods. "It's okay."
"Good. I was kind of worried, 'cause, you know, there's a lot of people and I thought it might make you uncomfortable—"
"I'm fine, Feliciano." Ludwig sets down his plate, placing an arm around him nearly cautiously. "You know, Alfred invited me to my first ever Fourth of July party."
"Really?"
"Yes. I was completely terrified. It was the most patriotism I'd ever seen in one place and I ended up sitting in the other room with Matthew eating ice cream." Ludwig exhales. "And then Arthur came in and yelled at everyone about noise."
Feliciano laughs a little. "And you came back?"
"I thought all the parties were like that or worse— stop laughing at me."
"Sorry. I bet my first was worse."
Ludwig raises an eyebrow.
"Nonno was trying to be the cool American grandpa and it was the most embarrassing thing I've ever seen. And then he tried to put food coloring in the lasagna to make it red, white, and blue and it came out lavender and Nonna hit him with a spoon. But oh my God he kept trying to say things like "radical" and it was— Jesus. And "tubular" and "dawg". Lovino almost cried."
Ludwig snorts.
"Carlino did cry, but he was like two and I think he thought the lasagna was an alien or something. It looked really weird."
"Yours was worse." Ludwig watches the cluster of people around the grill. "But he's invited me to every one since then, and his taste in cake has not changed at all."
Feliciano hm's again. Later, they will eat hamburgers and watch the fireworks and Gilbert will kidnap Ludwig to go get some decent beer (Alfred's taste in beer also has not changed from Bud Light) and Lovino will kidnap Feliciano to introduce him to Lotte, but now, they are content to stay like this.