Tino offered to clean up, and after Lukas decided to go unpack with Mathias, Emil went to help him. Berwald went to grab his pack and reappeared with both his and Ludwig's in hand. Ludwig accepted his bag and followed the tall Swede up the stairs to the second level. Their room was the one closest to the stairs leading to the kitchen, so at least they didn't have to pass Lukas' room. Before, he hadn't held much of an opinion for the Norwegian, but now, he felt his muscles tense simply at the thought of him, because that thought came with the image of him placing his lips against Berwald's forehead tenderly.
"You okay?' Berwald asked as they entered their room together.
He looked up at him and blinked stupidly as Berwald proceeded to walk over and set his bag down on the bed.
"Ber…was there," he looked down, debating whether or not to proceed, but then decided it was going to bother him unless he continued. "Was there ever anything between you and Lukas?"
He visibly froze for a moment, but tried to keep moving normally. Ludwig knew the answer then. He must have let his head drop further than he thought, however, because Berwald suddenly crossed the room back to him, and embraced him in a sudden, tight hug.
He wanted to shrug off the hug, to tell him that it really didn't matter and that he didn't care if Berwald had something with others in the past, but, he did care. He still wasn't sure if it actually mattered, as in, if it was going to affect anything, but he couldn't help the strange feeling of jealousy that was beginning to take form inside of him.
"Was a long time ago," Berwald muttered close to him.
He pressed himself into the Swede's sturdy figure and took a deep breath, his musky scent surrounding him. He began to hug him tighter, but then footsteps began up the stairs and Ludwig jerked away, feeling as if he was about to be caught doing something wrong. Berwald only let him go long enough for him to shut the door, and then took him back into his arms and held him tightly. He buried his face in his shoulder next to his neck and then half sighed, half grunted. It tickled. Ludwig laughed a little, trying to move out of his grasp, but his strong arms locked around him, preventing escape. He apparently realized what made him laugh though, and made the same noise into his neck, nuzzling him with his nose.
Ludwig laughed harder, trying again to wriggle free. "Stop that!"
"Laugh sounds nice," he murmured against his skin before relenting and kissing his neck gently.
They both hugged a bit tighter then, sighing deeply and heavily. Ludwig suddenly felt very tired then, despite how much sleep he'd had over the past twenty-four hours and yawned widely.
"Cute." Berwald said quietly, though it didn't sound as though it was actually saying it to him as much as stating it to himself, and took him to the bed, moving his bag to the floor and placing Ludwig's next to it so he could lie down.
"You won't need to take care of me like this all the time, you know," he felt he needed to tell him as he got settled on one side of the bed. "I'll heal soon,"
Berwald bent down and kissed his cheek and then his forehead. "Always take care of ya,"
He felt himself smiling even as he tried not to, and rolled to his side with an unintelligible grunt.
The tall Swede went about unpacking a few things but got into bed quickly, sliding up behind him closely and nuzzling his shoulder before lying his head down. Ludwig smiled and squeezed his hand as it slid beneath his own resting next to his chest.
He supposed that he could try to ignore anything that had happened between Berwald and Lukas in the past. After all, whatever happened then had ended, and this was what was happening now. He could take it at that. Right?
England, as it turned out, was actually really boring. Once it was decided that they didn't have to move any farther north for the mean time, they quickly ran out of things to do. They all spoke English well enough to get around, but it was always hard to go outside without feeling on edge. Inside the house, there was an awkward bit of tension between him and Lukas. Except for once when Berwald was out with the Icelander, Emil. Then, Lukas had casually engaged him in conversation, looking bored rather than irritated with his presence. He wasn't sure how to take that, but he slowly began to decide that if it continued, he'd punch a wall.
For now though, he decided to focus on settling in where he was. The others seemed easy enough to get along with, so that helped. He still felt a little strange regarding Tino, but he was a kind spirit and was willing to do most things in order to raise morale. Emil was quiet and a bit broody, being the youngest of them all by a few years, but he occasionally popped up beside him and asked him random questions about nearly anything. Ludwig didn't mind at all and after a few days of this, he found he actually rather liked speaking with the Icelander. The Dane, however, was the only one who seemed truly happy. Ludwig began to like him more and more, finding that he reminded him a lot of his brother.
Gilbert…
His stomach dropped. He knew the feeling of homesickness as well as the next solider, but this time it was certain that he was never going home. At least he got to say goodbye. His brother apparently believed him that he had been set up, but he knew the shame that came from being the family of a deserter. Yet, when he thought of his grandfather, his head dropped heavily. What would Gilbert tell him? What would he believe?
Gilbert could probably convince him that he was dead, but the image of his grandfather mourning his false death hurt him deeply. Still, he wasn't sure if it was worse than thought of the old German spitting and cursing every time he heard his youngest grandson's name. He was either going to break his grandfather's heart or fill it with shame, and all he had ever done was do as he was told. Why wasn't that enough?
"Hey, German," someone suddenly called.
He looked up from where he was sitting next to the window in the room he and Berwald shared, a neglected book in his lap.
"Yeah?" he answered, seeing the tall Dane standing in the doorway.
"How's your leg feeling?" he asked, smiling almost sympathetically.
Ludwig began to smile back just at Mathias' presence. "It feels like it's been fucking shot,"
He grinned hugely and leaned back into the hallway, shouting towards the stairs that led to the kitchen. "He says it feels shot!"
"Smart ass!" came Lukas' hollered response.
Mathias laughed as he entered the room fully. "I feel your pain,"
"You are my pain," he scoffed jokingly.
It was just so easy for him to talk around Mathias.
If it was possible, he smiled even wider and sat on the edge of the bed. "It couldn't have been that bad, after all, you still fucking ran!"
Ludwig smirked, but cringed inwardly as he remembered the pain. "Well, you didn't leave me much of a choice."
"Maybe not, but you know, if we had been on schedule that night, we wouldn't have ever met you," he told him with a sudden shift to a sort of distant thoughtfulness.
He blinked in surprise, half at the information, half at the sudden mood change. "Really?"
The Dane grinned again, a bit more wryly, and nodded. "And there would have been one more bullet in each of our guns,"
He chuckled. "That's one way to look at it, I suppose,"
Mathias leaned back as he sighed and looked around casually before speaking again.
"So, you're fuckin' the Swede, huh?"
He was caught so off guard that he choked on his own gasp, and coughed hard as his ears and cheeks grew red and hot.
Laughing loudly he held up his hands and shook his head a little. "Hey, I'm not judging!"
Ludwig cleared his throat as he tried to compose himself, but he still had no idea how to respond. "Well…er, yeah,"
The blond with the wild hair laughed charmingly, making him smile a bit too, despite his embarrassment.
"So, does that mean you two are, you know," he began twisting his two fingers together for emphasis. "Together?"
Ludwig paused, honestly surprised by the question, but then began to smile as he looked down a bit. "Yeah, I guess we are,"
"Ah, well, that's good," the Dane cheered before standing again, but his mind was somewhere else, Ludwig could tell. "It'll be nice to see something other than everyone being so grim all the time,"
He then headed to the door.
Ludwig tilted his head slightly; Mathias was too easy for him to read, just like Gilbert.
"Mat?" he called.
"Hm?" he raised his eyebrows as he turned smoothly in the doorway.
Ludwig glanced away as he spoke. "Was that…was that about what happened with Lukas?"
He froze visibly, the exact same way Berwald had. It made him wonder if the Norwegian knew he had this effect on them.
"Maybe…it's something like that," he murmured in a uncharacteristically low tone, not meeting Ludwig's eyes.
Then he left, shutting the door behind him and heading back down the stairs.
Ludwig wasn't sure what to make of that, either.