CHAPTER 11

Ludwig didn't have many friends he could talk about personal matters with. Growing up with Gilbert, he'd quickly realized that this required a very advanced type of skill, and that no one in the Beilschmidt family had been taught it. Neither of them were the emotionally intellectual type. Gilbert's acquisition of his double master's degree in mechanical and materials engineering was just as smooth-sailing as Ludwig's Honors studies, but no amount of academic prowess helped the two brothers work out arguments that would last days, weeks, and sometimes even months. He knew there was something wrong with letting your thoughts fester in the mind. He just didn't know what else to do with them.

When he first met Alfred, he'd been shocked at how openly the guy would discuss anything and everything with zero brain-to-mouth filter. As they started hanging out outside of lecture halls and tutorial periods, he began to understand the enigma that was Alfred Jones just a little bit more. His brash courage was a gift more than a curse. Ludwig felt no small degree of envy whenever Alfred spoke unashamedly of things he himself wouldn't dare bring to light in public.

Like many others, Alfred fit well into the stereotypical jock category. He also made no effort to hide the fact that he was in a relationship with a man. There were prejudices, sure, but it was a fairly progressive locale and rarely anyone openly expressed harm. The campus had various pride activities throughout the semesters. Alfred attended a lot of these events, and still managed to uphold a respectable reputation amongst the testosterone-heavy soccer and rugby teams, with whom he'd practice with every other week.

In terms of physical appearance, Ludwig was no different. He played soccer with Alfred and ran for the school's track team. The only thing that segregated him from the rest of the meatheads in the changing rooms was that he didn't talk much. People didn't speak to him outside of what was necessary. He'd been told he looked unapproachable, stiff. When spoken to, even more so. His team and classmates were nice enough, but it probably wouldn't go over well if he suddenly brought up intimate details of his sexual preferences to them.

Feliciano and Kiku were two people who would understand. Still, Alfred was the only friend Ludwig had who was openly bi. Ludwig didn't exactly hide the fact that he was gay, but for a while nobody knew because they weren't interested enough to ask. Women who approached him with interest quickly grew bored of his unsociable tendencies. It took a few secret dates with some guys around campus before Ludwig felt like he didn't have to pretend to be something he wasn't around the select few whom he called friends.

Still, the thought of talking about the more... private aspects of his life were daunting as ever. One evening with Alfred, after more than a few doses of liquid courage, Ludwig finally managed to open his mouth to ask something he had wanted to ever since he began his first real relationship some months prior. And even then, it was only because Alfred had started the rather bucket-of-water-esque conversation out of nowhere.

"You and that Ralph guy seem pretty head over heels for each other, huh?"

Ludwig nearly choked on his beer. "I'm sorry?"

Alfred shrugged. "That guy you're always with. I see y'all walking to the dining hall every day after Statistics."

Both of them had a free period after Statistics. Ludwig was under the impression that Alfred went straight to his dorm for a nap, as he always said he would.

"Well," said Ludwig, keeping his eyes trained on the small TV monitor on Alfred's desk. "We are dating now."

"I figured," Alfred said around a mouthful of doritos. "Dude can't keep his hands off you for a second."

Ludwig ducked his head in embarrassment. "I've asked him not to do... so much... out in public." He coughed unnecessarily. "What about you and Arthur? You guys are pretty serious?"

"Think so?" Alfred said, licking his fingers and wiping them on his jeans before reaching for the remote. "I mean, he hasn't asked to break up yet. Gonna take that as a good sign."

They flipped through some channels but nothing interesting was on. Ludwig stole a dorito from Alfred's bag and took tiny, squirrel bites to stall for time as he considered whether or not this was a good idea.

It definitely wasn't, he concluded at the same time he said, "So—you know when you and Arthur..."

"Huh?"

Ludwig drained the rest of his beer can. "You know... sleep together..."

"Ohhh." Alfred snorted and made a silly face. "Dude, you can just say it. You know we fuck all the time."

"Ugh, whatever. I just, well... does it hurt?"

Alfred had cracked open a Coke and he paused in bringing it to his mouth. "What makes you think I'm the bottom?"

Ludwig wrinkled his nose, not wanting to imagine his friend's sex life in any visual capacity. "I didn't say you were, I was just—"

"Hah! I'm just messin' with ya dude." Alfred punched Ludwig's arm lightly. "It's anal sex, of course it's gonna hurt if you don't prepare. Lots of lube and stuff. It's totally fine after, you'll get used to it."

Ludwig thought he'd get used to it by now. He and Ralph always used lube, but it never felt like it was enough. It was only natural, he'd thought, when trying to fit something... into a place that wasn't meant for that kind of use. Now he wondered if he was doing something wrong, although there was no way he was asking Alfred for a step-by-step breakdown of his bedtime activities.

"Why? Does it hurt when you do it with Ralph?"

Ludwig shook his head. Thankfully Alfred didn't press the matter, and simply reached for the bag of doritos on the bed again while he continued to flip channels.

"Gotta use all the lube, man. And foreplay—lots of foreplay. Oh shit, I missed this episode last week! Let's fucking go dude."

"We're doing all that." The familiar music of CSI did little to catch Ludwig's interest as it normally did. "It hasn't really helped out."

"Maybe he just likes it a bit rough?" Alfred shrugged. "I dunno, talk to him. He should be doing his job instead of sticking it in all willy-nilly. Hah! Get it? 'Willy' like the di—"

"I get it," Ludwig interrupted, rolling his eyes. They ditched the topic as they focused on the episode. They then reluctantly worked through their weekly assignments and quizzes that were due at 11:59 PM. By the time Ludwig left for his own dorm building, it was pitch black outside and raining.

The freezing wet did little to spoil his mood, however. Only Alfred could have handled him as effortlessly as he did today and still look at him like nothing was wrong, talking to him like they were just discussing tournament dates or midterm scores. As if Ludwig hadn't asked him an extremely invasive question. Maybe if he tried, he might learn to be like that too.

~0~

The sound of Ivan's doorbell made Ludwig jump. It probably didn't help that Alfred rang it twice in quick succession, followed by a series of impatient raps on the door that anyone would have deemed entirely unnecessary at best and rude at worst. It was more than enough to shock Ludwig back into reality and make him realize he was leaning inappropriately into Ivan's personal space. Their hands were still interlocked in his lap.

He scrambled off the couch, flustered. "Sorry," he said, having scratched Ivan's hand after practically tearing himself away.

"All good," said Ivan cheerfully, although the slight droop of his eyes betrayed his sadness. His next words confirmed as much. "It's too bad this day is over."

It really was. Very carefully avoiding the gaze that followed his movements, Ludwig pushed his loose hair back and stepped aside to make room for Ivan who stood up as well. "We can do it again," he said, and this time it was for his own sake as much as it was for Ivan's. He wanted to believe it could happen.

Alfred was shivering in the February chill, jacket zipped all the way up to his chin. He mouthed a cheery 'hey' in greeting at the door. He and Ivan exchanged nods while Ludwig put on his shoes, but otherwise didn't speak to each other. The awkward silence seemed out of place in the company of someone like Alfred, who never missed an opportunity to chat up a storm.

"All ready?" Alfred reached out to usher his reluctant friend outside. His car was parked haphazardly on the side of the road, one tire perched up on the curb with the engine still running and high beams blazing.

"Yes," said Ludwig. "Thanks." He turned to say goodbye, but Ivan wasn't looking at him. His gaze was fixed at a point somewhere just southwards of their faces, close to where Alfred's arm curved around Ludwig's back in a friendly gesture of guidance.

"C'mon, I'm freezing my nuts off," said Alfred, still trying to push Ludwig towards his car. Ivan was unmoving, leaning perfectly still against the doorframe like a broad piece of living statuary. It was the picture of a man relaxed and content in his home, but the tendons in his crossed forearms appeared slightly strained. His neutral expression was unreadable, cast in distorted shadow by the porch light above.

Settled in the passenger seat, Ludwig raised his hand in farewell. Ivan's eyes, which had been hawkishly following the back of Alfred's head as it bobbed around the length of the car, caught sight of the movement and locked with Ludwig's gaze through the glass. Ivan finally smiled and raised his own hand in return. The sight eased the threads of tension deep in Ludwig's chest, although he wasn't sure why they'd been drawn taut in the first place.

"How are you not freezing? It's like thirty degrees," Alfred complained as he pulled away from Ivan's driveway. The wheel clunked off the curb and the suspension jerked noisily, but he was pretending like they didn't both feel it in their seats. Ludwig stared at his friend, wondering why they were in such a hurry when they both knew Ralph wasn't back until tomorrow evening.

"I was kept warm inside all day," Ludwig answered, glancing at the rearview mirror where Ivan's house grew smaller and smaller until it disappeared around a corner. "You didn't even say goodbye."

"Told you, was freezing my balls off. It's stupid how bright and warm it is during the day and then it's back to Antarctica as soon as the sun disappears," Alfred rambled. "And I did say bye, you just didn't hear it from inside the car."

Ludwig closed the vents blasting hot air on his side of the car and leaned against the backrest. The mental exhaustion of prior events drifted back, churning his stomach and weighing down his bones.

They drove wordlessly for ten minutes or so, silence broken only by the alternative rock playing quietly over a niche station that had always been Alfred's favorite. According to the GPS on the dashboard screen, Ivan's home was about thirty minutes away from Ralph's by car.

While he didn't mind taking the bus and walking, he would get so much done in one day if he saved all the time spent getting from one point to another. Visiting Ivan would also be easier if he could drive. Ludwig wondered how Ralph would react if he asked to buy his own vehicle.

Since he was incapable of working for his own money, he'd have to borrow a large piece of Ralph's hard-earned paycheck and he had nothing to repay that kind of debt with. He was already living in Ralph's home rent-free, in exchange for doing all the household chores and letting his boyfriend do whatever he wanted to do with him in bed. Ludwig closed his eyes to come to grips with the trickling feeling that he wouldn't be walking for days after tomorrow night. He thanked the heavens for being stocked up on melatonin, all thanks to Ivan's charitable soul at the pharmacy earlier this week.

That encounter seemed like ages ago. Ludwig felt as if he had known Ivan for a lifetime. It was impossible to imagine returning to a life without him in it, to never again see him grinning at crazy book covers and hear the soft timbre of his voice.

"So. I uh..." More than halfway through their drive, Alfred finally cleared his throat. "I feel really bad about yesterday. I didn't know what else to do 'cuz Arthur would have killed me if his samples expired before reaching the lab."

"Don't worry about it. I'm glad you managed to get to them before they were sent back."

"But still, I really shouldn't have left you like that."

Ludwig didn't know what to say. His complete lack of awareness last night was plenty of reason for Alfred to make the decisions he did. Besides, it wasn't as if Alfred had completely abandoned his drunk friend at the restaurant. He'd arranged alternate transportation like a responsible person would.

"So," Alfred said again when Ludwig failed to respond. "You and Ivan. You guys..." He fluttered his hand in a vague gesture.

"What?"

"What'd you guys do? Just chill out and stuff?"

"Yes, we chilled out and stuff," Ludwig repeated dryly. It was very unlike his friend to tiptoe around his words like this and it was getting rather exhausting to listen to.

"Nice, yeah. Cool," said Alfred, nodding in quick succession, and Ludwig couldn't stop the stab of annoyance piercing his skin like a pesky thorn.

"Why did you tell Gilbert where I was?" It was the only thing he'd been wanting to say ever since he first saw Alfred on Ivan's porch and he was finally able to breathe from the absence of its crushing weight on his chest. "You know how he gets. You saw how much he didn't like the idea of me befriending people he doesn't already know."

"I know, and I'm sorry." Alfred tousled his hair, erratically tapping a finger on the steering wheel out of nervous habit. "It's just... I dunno man, you were being a little cryptic about being there and then you said you weren't gonna leave right away, which didn't seem like you at all—and then you stopped replying and I guess I got a bit worried."

"So what?" Ludwig demanded. "How was calling Gilbert going to solve anything? He doesn't have a car, his license is suspended, and he's miles away."

"I know," Alfred repeated. His hair was in comical disarray, making him look more agitated than ever. "I wasn't thinking, alright? I just felt like I was responsible or whatever since I'm the one who sent you off with that guy. If you went missing or some shit then family should be the first to know, right?"

"Your concerns were entirely misplaced. Ivan is the nicest man I've met in a while."

"I mean yeah, he is nice. Super friendly guy. But like, dude... he's lowkey scary as fuck."

Whatever he'd been bracing himself to hear, it wasn't that. Ludwig released a rather inelegant snort of laughter. For perhaps the first time ever, the dynamics were reversed and Alfred was frowning at the look of amusement on Ludwig's face.

"What's so funny?"

"Clearly you weren't as sober as you thought you were. I have no idea what gave you that impression but it's just a misunderstanding."

"Okay, but I'm not kidding." It was as if the verbal floodgates had burst open in one fell swoop and Alfred was rattling on. "He showed up real quick and was nothing but polite so of course I was super grateful and all. But then he saw you practically comatose on the table and I swear-to-God I just felt this really freaky aura coming off him—and it was definitely directed at me. He's fucking huge too, like what the fuck? Even I can't carry your dead weight by myself and he just picked you up like it was nothing."

"Not everyone who's taller and fitter than you is a threat, Alfred. I'm sure he was just pissed off at being called out so late."

"He didn't say you had to do something in exchange for the favor, did he? Or make you feel guilty for eating up gas money or being a drunken nuisance—"

"No!" spluttered Ludwig, both horrified at the accusation and embarrassed at the mentioning of his own sorry state at the time. "Ivan's not..." He stopped himself; he'd been about to say not like Ralph. "He's not like that. He suggested I stay for lunch and was nothing but respectful and friendly the whole time. Which is how he's always been."

"That's 'cause you didn't see the way he was looking at me last night! He asked why you were like that and I said I might have encouraged you to drink more than I should have. Fucking hell, I thought he was gonna have me drawn and quartered on the spot. It was just a stupid joke!"

"He doesn't know you, and I was knocked out cold. I can't remember anything about it or the ride back home so it must have looked pretty bad."

Alfred looked over sharply. "Wait, what? Do you even remember me telling you that I had to use your phone?"

Ludwig shook his head. He really didn't. Alfred was uncharacteristically quiet.

"...Look, I'm just saying if he's ever done or said anything to make you uncomfortable—"

"No, he hasn't. Will you stop talking about him like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like he's dangerous. Talking about... auras and whatnot..." Ludwig shook his head. "It's just disrespectful."

"And the way you keep brushing me off isn't? Everything that comes out of my mouth is a joke to you, right? It's all just 100% organic, grass-fed bullshit—"

"I'm not brushing you off, I'm saying there is no credibility to the accusations you so carelessly throw around."

"Uh-huh," said Alfred sarcastically. They were clearly tipping over the precipice of a full-blown argument. How and why they got here, Ludwig couldn't understand. He was also too entrenched in his own growing irritation to care.

"You're insulting someone who's done nothing to deserve it. Besides, you were fine with it when I first mentioned him at Gilbert's. It makes no sense that you'd suddenly feel otherwise. Can't you just admit that your first impressions were off and move on?"

It was a simple misunderstanding that took the form of a personal attack. At least it did for Ludwig, who was feeling more than a little hurt at how easily Alfred jumped to say horrible things about the one person who had brought him so much joy over the short span of seven days. Ivan was gentle and caring, despite Ludwig failing to reciprocate multiple times. Ivan was... he was...

"I'm really not trying to sound like Gilbert here, but what if he does want to keep seeing you as something more than friends? There's a lot of fucked up people out there. Did you even set boundaries? Or just straight up tell him you're not interested in that way? Or that—oh I dunno, you technically still have a... a partner?" Alfred spat out the word like it disgusted him to even refer to Ralph as such.

"I'm not telling him anything," Ludwig uttered through clenched teeth. "I have no reason to bring it up in conversation, nor will there ever be a reason."

"Y'know what? Fine. Ivan gives me bad vibes and I think you should be careful." Alfred splayed his hands over the wheel to emphasize his point. "There, I said it. Now sue me."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Ludwig snapped, but Alfred wasn't finished.

"Do you have any idea how hard this is for me right now? Or for anybody to talk to you about this kind of shit—I get that he's a new friend and you don't want me talking smack. I get it. But holy shit you have gotta stop shutting down every attempt at discussion on things you feel the slightest discomfort in talking about. We're all worried, and hell—as a friend, I can't even express an iota of concern? May I remind you that you don't know anything about this guy!"

"You've known Ralph for almost six years," Ludwig hissed. "Just because you know someone longer doesn't make them a better or worse person than they really are."

"Oh, so you're finally admitting that Ralph is a shitty, abusive motherfucker who will always be a shitty, abus—"

"Don't use that word!"

"Can you stop censoring me for one goddamn second?" Alfred was borderline hollering now. "It's been years and you're still fucking delusional as ever! How the fuck can any of us sleep at night when you have this weird habit of defending the shittiest scumbags to have ever walked the earth?"

"Gosh, I'm so fucking sorry that my weird habits have disrupted your circadian rhythms," snarled Ludwig, hating how much Alfred's words tore him apart. "You and Gilbert are just one of a kind, deciding what's best for me on your high horses as if you ever cared about who I dated or made friends with."

Alfred spluttered. "What—I never—dude, of course I cared! We all do!"

"Then maybe you shouldn't," Ludwig said frigidly. "Stop the car."

"The fuck are you on, the house is on the end of this street!"

"I have legs that are capable of walking the rest of the way."

"It's fucking freezing out there!" Alfred bellowed, spraying the windshield with spit.

"Let me out or I'll open this door—"

"Fuck! Okay, okay." Alfred violently jerked the wheel to the curb and slammed the brakes. "Happy?"

Ludwig got out before Alfred even finished speaking. He slammed the car door shut and began walking along the sidewalk without looking back. Alfred spitefully honked at him for several long seconds, then sped away on squealing tires.

The night was indeed cold and raised gooseflesh on his arms, but Ludwig hardly felt it. Ralph's house was visible at the end of the street and he hurried his pace towards it, familiar orange lights illuminating the path from above. He passed a hand over his face, suddenly overcome with the unbelievable urge to cry.

His heart was pounding with emotion—anger at his friend, but mostly at himself. He was already regretting every word that came out of his mouth. Alfred was coarse in his ways, but he meant well. And Ludwig had gone and driven away the one, last remaining friend who went out of his way to keep in touch.

He'd been called selfish many times by Ralph, Gilbert... and once again he'd proved them right. Alfred was a good guy who tried to be a good friend. The universe followed simple rules—people got what they earned, and he had no business trying to change that. Alfred deserved better and Ludwig had chosen Ralph, and he knew he had to walk through that rapidly approaching door just as much as he knew that Alfred would likely never contact him again.

He pressed the combination into the number pad, heard the chime indicating that it was unlocked, and stepped inside. For a good ten seconds, Ludwig could do nothing but stand frozen as cold, clammy dread clawed its way into his tightening chest cavity.

Ralph's shoes were in the foyer.

The hows and whys didn't matter. Ludwig wanted to turn around and chase after Alfred, who would be long gone by now. He wanted to call and apologize for everything he'd said, to beg his friend to forgive him, to give him one more chance like the lowlife he was. He wanted to run as far away from this house as he could and never look back again.

Ludwig quietly shut the door, locking himself inside his own prison. He didn't bother fumbling for the light switch. The silence was immeasurable, serving only to quicken the pulse in his ears. Even in near blindness, he knew how many steps to take to avoid the shoe rack, the umbrella stand, the carrier filled with various golf clubs that hadn't moved from its resting place in years. His legs carried him automatically forward, into the kitchen where he knew his fate awaited him.

Ralph was the forlorn shadow leaning against marble countertops, his back to Ludwig even as he approached. The street lights fell through uncurtained windows, illuminating the sleek kitchen in orange streaks. He could make out the hunched outline over a round bottle. It was not Patrón En Lalique, but a whiskey he didn't recognize. Some deranged part of him deep down found this revelation absolutely hysterical.

Tequila was the wrong choice, you fucking useless piece of shit. You can't even correctly guess what your boyfriend would want to drink after a long trip away.

"Hey, babe." It was Ralph who spoke first, still bowing over his glass. "Welcome back."

He thought if he spoke, he'd come apart at the seams, barely held together by the bare threads of his sanity. The kitchen was a vacuum in space, deathly cold and endlessly dark.

"Wanted to come home early and surprise you," Ralph continued. He sounded tired, appropriately so for someone who had just driven six hours along the interstate. He took another languid sip from his glass. The ice clinked together with his movements. "Thought you'd be lonely. I wanted to do something nice for a change."

"Where is..." The words caught Ludwig's throat. "Where is the car? I didn't see it in the driveway."

"I saw that you weren't home." Ralph rubbed his face in his hands. "I parked it a couple blocks down and waited to see if you brought anyone back."

He should have been surprised at Ralph so readily admitting to his low tricks. Instead, another feeling took precedence, one that swelled and resurrected pain anew even though he'd been here many times before.

"Why do you keep doing this? Is it really that hard to trust me? Never in all the times we've been together have I ever cheated once—"

An explosion of sound cut him off. The remnants of Ralph's whisky glass showered the kitchen tiles with a thousand crystal shards. Another burst of glass, this time much more substantial as the whiskey bottle shattered against the fridge. Liquor drenched the drawers and floors. Ralph swore loudly and crumpled over the bar.

"Sorry babe." He sounded thin, wobbly. "I'm so sorry, I don't know why I keep doing this. I just can't control myself... I feel like I'm going crazy. Maybe I am... I don't know anymore."

"Ralph," Ludwig began, voice splintering on the single syllable. He couldn't stop shaking. The sound of the glass breaking still rang in his ears like the aftermath of a bomb. "I'm sorry I came back so late."

"I get so paranoid at the thought of losing you. I love you so much, baby... so so much..."

Before he knew it, Ludwig was at his partner's side. "It's my fault," he whispered. He rubbed slow, soothing lines down Ralph's back. Ralph leaned into him, sniffing. "I should have called or texted you. Let you know where I was."

"So where have you been today?" Ralph mumbled, his arms snaking around Ludwig's waist. His hands gripped the loose black fabric, and that was when Ludwig realized he was still wearing Ivan's shirt. Struggling to remain nonchalant, he gently pulled out of his partner's embrace.

"...Just at a friend's."

"Which friend?"

"Alfred." He prayed the tremors would be unnoticeable. "You remember him, right?"

Ralph nodded. He reached out again, buried his face into Ludwig's belly, and breathed in deeply.

"He's a pilot now..." Ludwig was rambling, desperate to fill the silence with something. "He said he was staying for a while and wanted to hang out."

Ralph stood up from the bar and gently stroked back the strands of loose hair that fell in Ludwig's eyes. "Give me your phone."

Ludwig obeyed robotically, watching himself go through the motions like a far away observer of his own thoughts and actions.

Ralph took it, spared it a glance that lasted no more than a handful of seconds, and immediately huffed with mirthless laughter.

"Oh, baby," he murmured. "You missed being stuffed with cock so much you had to go and find another one?"

"What? No." Ludwig took a step back. Another. "That's not—"

"Shh, I know. It's okay." Ralph slowly embraced Ludwig again, and his arms were gentle if not for the way his nails dug deep through the shirt and into his flesh, stinging him with crescent marks.

"Please." Ludwig tried to explain, but his breaths fell short in wake of his surging desperation. "It's just Alfred. Ralph, you know Alfred..."

"Yes, babe," whispered Ralph. He began kissing lazily up the length of Ludwig's neck, sinking his teeth into the vulnerable skin just below his jaw. "I bet he fucked you real good while I was gone."

"He—we didn't—" Ralph bit, sucked, and bit again, like he was trying to tear out Ludwig's throat. Rough hands snaked up his shirt and dug into his jeans with no hesitation. "Please listen to me!" He ripped himself out of Ralph's arms, taking several steps back to escape to the living area. "There's nothing between me and Alfred. He's just a friend and will never be anything more."

"Is that so?" Ralph raised the phone up to his face and began reading, "'Hello Ludwig, just letting you know that you left your items at my place. I hope you got home safe. I had so much fun today, I hope we can see each other again soon. Have a good night.' You're absolutely right. Alfred would never talk like this." He scrolled through some more texts. "Ah, this one sounds more like him. 'Did Ivan get you home last night?'"

Ludwig felt like throwing up. He hadn't yet deleted his conversation with Alfred from this morning.

"It's not what it looks like." Even to Ludwig's ears, it sounded like a pathetic excuse. "We didn't do anything, I swear. You have to believe—"

Slap!

His head jerked from the force of Ralph's palm striking his face. "Couldn't wait the one week I told you to," Ralph sneered, raising his hand again. Slap! Stars exploded in his peripherals and Ludwig stumbled, catching himself on the couch behind him. "Did he pay you to swallow? Fucking look at me when I'm talking to you."

"It's not like that, please—" Ralph was already climbing over him, pressing down into the cushions, thighs locking him in so that he couldn't escape. He grabbed a handful of the meat on Ludwig's ass and squeezed so painfully that he gasped.

"Why don't you show me," Ralph growled in Ludwig's ear, his breath hot against his skin, "exactly what it is you did with Ivan while I was gone."

"He's just a friend," Ludwig cried. He was being suffocated by the weight on his back, by his own air, or the lack of it—his lungs couldn't remember how to function. "I promise. I'm sorry I lied to you—I didn't want you to worry but he just wanted a friend. I swear on my life we didn't do anything... I swear..."

"I know he didn't, babe. No respectable man would touch you with a six-foot pole. If only Ivan knew just how much of a dirty little cumrag you are." Ralph placed loud, sloppy kisses down a row on Ludwig's nape. "But I don't care about all that, do I? I will always love you, no matter how loose you are."

Ivan's shirt had ridden up his chest and bunched around his face. Every drowning breath he took was filled with Ivan's scent. Ludwig bit down into the nest of fabric to silence the sobs forcing their way up his throat. Tears blurred his vision to the point he could barely make out shadows. He thought he could imagine seeing Ivan standing here, looking down at them on the couch. The way his relaxed contentment would twist into revulsion, eyes widening with disgust.

It was fine, he repeated to himself while Ralph unbuckled his belt. Things were just returning back to normal. He had flown too close to the sun and was simply falling a little longer, a little harder, and a little more permanently.