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Ludwig prided himself in his body. It was his reward after years of hard work to build muscle where there had seemingly once been nothing but flesh and bone, now a temple, a novel. But he had never been comfortable being ogled, and certainly, never being studied.
The flash of brown, reddish hair on the treadmill was a sinewy thing, with toned legs falling from a small pair of bright green shorts and a horrendous yellow shirt probably from a gift shop somewhere. He’d been running for a while without fail, making it look easy with how his attention had been trained on Ludwig the whole time. He had a young face. Almost boyish. Wide-eyed and curious. But the young man’s innocence was still aimed directly at him, more specifically Ludwig’s form, as he again lifted the weighted bar over his shoulders and above his head.
Ludwig’s body always flushed when he had worked out for long enough, but the heat that spread over his face and limbs now was brought on by pure emotion - embarrassment, shyness, he couldn’t tell. Whatever it was, it wasn’t pleasant, it wasn’t normal, and all he wanted to do was go to the gym without feeling like he was under a burning spotlight. But the stranger’s eyes were relentless. Distant, yet so completely focused on the expanse of skin, the flex of muscle, the dips and curves of his body’s strings.
Gilbert, of course, was none the wiser, with the usual heavy metal ringing from his airpods a few meters away. Gilbert always had something to say about Ludwig’s admirers. Something usually brash and perverse, enough to unwittingly get whoever it was to go away. But those had all been women. Ludwig couldn’t even understand women. How was he supposed to handle a man ?
Ludwig paused, the bar resting heavily on his shoulders, watching as the stranger’s eyes studied his bare abdomen. And like clockwork, his eyes ran up Ludwig’s torso, until their eyes met - and the stranger nearly tripped and skinned his face on the treadmill.
Ludwig threw down the barbell with a flush and spun around, overtly aware of the millions of eyes now on him after the large clanging of the weights hitting the floor (all but Gilbert, of course). He fell to his knees to slide the weights off of the bar, and was about to stand when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Excuse me!”
He hesitated, then turned around, still on his knees, and looked up to see the stranger smiling down at him. He wiped away a bead of sweat that had fallen from thick, reddened-brown hair, that had slid down pale and sharp cheekbones. Ludwig went still. The other man tugged at his hands with a nervous smile.
“I am very sorry about staring earlier. You just have a very beautiful body!” His accent was Italian. He prided himself on being informed about people from other European countries besides his own, but he didn’t know if it was considered normal to be so… uniquely upfront about attraction to another. Ludwig’s jaw went slack as he struggled to come up with a response.
Ludwig swallowed. “...Are you gay or something?”
The Italian threw his head back with a laugh, a hand clutching at his shirt. Ludwig’s brow furrowed.
“I am an artist! I would very much like to draw you! My name is Feli.” He held out a hand like it wasn’t the weirdest interaction in the world, and after a moment, Ludwig took it to shake. Feli pulled him up from the ground afterwards.
“Why?” He choked out, clearing his throat.
“You have a beautiful body,” Feli replied, giving him an expectant look like Ludwig would understand what he meant (he didn’t). “I’ve been looking for a subject for my final project, and I think you would be perfect, no?!”
By now the people around him had gone back to what they were doing, but the intense look that Feli was giving him made him feel like the world was watching. Like he was being seen on the surface, but being seen in his very soul, too. It made him think that Feli was less of a creep and more of a hyperactive creative-type. Roderich used to talk about how music controlled him, made him itch for his piano keys whenever he saw a sunset or a baby smile. He wondered if Feli was similar.
Feli bounced on the balls of his feet and wrung his hands together like he was about to explode with impatience. Ludwig did a mental scan of his schedule before he even thought to say yes, as uncomfortable as the prospect made him. He’d known Feli for all of a minute, but he was exceedingly influential.
“Well…when were you thinking?” Ludwig reached up and pawed at the back of his neck. He was taller than Feli by a few inches and still felt the need to drop his shoulders and cave in on himself.
“I have no idea!” Feli beamed back. “I am always so busy, I always forget things, so you can just send me your schedule and we can set up a time at the art building, okay?”
“I guess, alright.”
“Cool! Can I add my number to your phone, please?”
Ludwig frowned but pulled out his phone anyway. He’d gone so long with Snapchat ever since moving to the states that giving out his number felt…intimate, in a way. But he pulled up his contact list anyway and handed his phone to Feli, who typed into it for a few seconds before taking a picture of himself and handing it back.
“Just text me whenever you’re ready to, okay? But we have to meet sometime within the next month or I’ll fail my class, so please hurry! My brother will yell at me if I let the lasagna get cold so I’m going to leave now! Ciao!”
And then Feli turned away, nearly skipping with glee as he promptly gathered his things by the treadmill and left the gym.
Ludwig looked down at the saved contact in his phone. He’d put himself in as “Feliciano!!!<3” and added the picture of him smiling and throwing up a peace sign with his hand. Ludwig briefly considered changing it to something more simple, something Gilbert wouldn’t bully him about if he saw a notification from Feli in his phone, but that was the last thing on his mind.
Ludwig had never posed for anyone before, besides childhood, when his mother forced him and Gilbert to get their yearly photos taken. He’d never liked the cameras, either. He could count the number of adult photos of himself that existed on his hand. But to pose for an artist, who’s whole job was to sketch out every little error on every inch of skin on his body? It took mere minutes after Feli had left to regret his decision.
Gilbert whistled at him from the dumbbells. “Oi, brohaus! Who was the twink?”
Yes, Ludwig knew, this was going to be a mistake.
“He was totally into you, dude.”
“He was interested in me for purely artistic reasons.”
“I mean, he could want to paint you and also want to fuck you. Completely possible.” Ludwig almost choked on his coffee at Alfred’s crudeness. Alfred had always been crude, yes, but ever since Ludwig had come out to him a month ago, his crudeness began to include that of men, something he’d been trying to avoid his whole life now dangled in front of his face like a carrot to a hog.
“Feli asked only that I would sit for him. That is all.” Ludwig turned back to his computer, setting his coffee aside and again attempting to focus on his essay (to no avail). Alfred ducked back the rest of his coffee and collapsed into his seat, briefly eyeing the cafe around them. It was surprisingly empty for two in the afternoon.
“Whatever, man. Just don’t be surprised that dudes are into you. You’re, like, the epitome of manhood or whatever.” The grin that had settled on Alfred’s face hadn’t faltered since the beginning of their conversation when Ludwig initially brought up Feli’s proposal. Then again, he didn’t see Alfred without a smile often. It used to be annoying, back when they first met their sophomore year, but now it was something familiar, almost comforting. Now it was just a shiteating grin he liked to use to tease Ludwig.
“And besides,” Alfred continued, leaning forward with his elbows on the table, “you’re out now. At least a little. If you like him, you should go for it.”
“When did I say I liked him?” Ludwig snapped, brows furrowed.
“You didn’t. You just look at that picture of him on your phone like you look at young Horst Buchholz.”
“Don’t say his name if you’re going to do it wrong, arschloch .” Alfred giggled at that and sat back again. Ludwig felt his cheeks tinge with heat at the name, even pronounced in a horrible American accent. Alfred hadn’t let him live it down since Ludwig told him that Horst Buchholz had been his first real crush at fourteen, or as Alfred put it, his sexual awakening . And it didn’t help that Horst looked a little bit like Feli, with that strong jaw and full lips, and - verdammit . “Even if I were to find him attractive, our meeting is going to be strictly professional. His only interest in me is artistic.”
“Yes, it will be completely professional even while you’re naked, yeah.”
Ludwig’s gaze snapped up to meet him.
“What do you mean?” He asked.
Alfred pulled out a gum packet. “I mean, you said he was interested in your body. And usually art majors do nude sittings if your body was all he was interested in. Want one?”
Ludwig hastily took the piece that was offered and tucked it away for later, his chest feeling heavy with panic. “I don’t - I won’t be nude . He didn’t say that.”
“Just ‘cause he didn’t say it, don’t mean it ain’t true, partner,” Alfred finished with a stupid southern drawl. “Text him and ask. But you being naked for him will definitely speed things up between you two, so you should definitely go for it-”
“Okay, fine, I will text him,” Ludwig groaned. He could already feel a headache coming on.
Alfred closed his laptop and slipped it into his bag. Ludwig looked at the time, knowing that Alfred had class in half an hour, and tried not to let his disappointment show. As much as Alfred liked to tease him, he was still the only person that Ludwig was out to, the only person he could trust with that conversation. God knows he’d put his trust in Gilbert when talking about men. He’d probably be the last person he came out to.
“If it means anything, I really think you should go for it. Just the sitting, I mean. It’ll be good for you, yanno? Get you out of that shell.” Alfred packed the last of his things away and slid his jacket back over his sweater, followed by his hat and gloves.
Ludwig scoffed. “I’m not in a shell.”
“You’re totally in a shell, dude. That’s the whole problem with being gay. I’ve been there.” He reached over the table and took Ludwig by the wrist, his grip firm but warm. A year ago, Ludwig would have slapped it away. But now touches like those were some of his only anchors. “Just go for it. Don’t think. Just text him.”
Their eyes met. Alfred had never been good with eye contact, but made it a point to keep Ludwig’s gaze for a long moment. He squeezed his wrist comfortingly before letting go.
Alfred slid out of the booth. “I’ll see you later man. Go get that dick!”
“What - don’t say that so loud!”
Alfred threw his head back with a laugh as he left the cafe. A girl across the cafe giggled into her hand. Ludwig sighed and turned his attention back to his essay. He had better things to worry about. Had it not been for Alfred’s horrible habit of procrastinating rubbing off on him, this paper would have been done a week ago, and he wouldn’t be working on it the day it was due.
Ludwig wasn’t avoiding it. He’d just been busy.
It had been a week since his encounter with Feli at the gym and five days since his weekly cafe study session with Alfred. Since then, he’d written two papers that weren’t due for another month and deep cleaned the apartment he shared with Gilbert. He’d been putting the cleaning off for a while, he told himself, and those papers would be better finished now than later. He’d done the mountain of dishes and then decided to do the rest that were sitting in the cabinets that could have been collecting dust. He spent an extra hour each day at the gym because he’d been lacking in his routine.
Ludwig wasn’t putting off texting Feli. It just so happened that he’d completely run out of things to do besides texting Feli, and was now curled up into a ball on his couch, panicking over what to say or if he should say anything at all. Maybe it would be better to ignore Feli altogether. Just text him and say he couldn’t do the sitting and then delete his contact and block his number for the rest of eternity.
And then he thought of what Alfred had said. And then he thought of Feli. And then he looked at that stupid contact photo that he hadn’t been staring at for the last week. And then he thought of Horst Buchholz, and how his father had joked about Ludwig having a crush on him with a nasty sneer, and how his mother and brother had giggled, too.
That memory had happened on a few occasions. The last time his father had said that, had been the last time he’d seen him. His father had said something like, “maybe if you weren’t so busy staring at Horst Buchholz like a fairy, you’d be giving us grandchildren with a woman, by now.” Ludwig had left for college in the states the next day. He’d been nineteen.
Usually that memory deterred him from striking up conversation with other men, especially those who showed that they were interested in him. But now, looking at the picture of Feli in his phone, he felt something resembling bravery - and started the conversation.
[Link attached.] This is Ludwig. Here is my schedule. I would prefer to meet on Friday.
Amazing!!!!! Friday is good!!!!!! Do you want to meet at my flat??? I can make pasta for lunch or dinner!!!!!!!!!!
That won’t be necessary. Thank you for the offer. Your flat will work fine. What is a good time for you?
Come at two!!!!!!!
[Link attached.]
Here is my address!!!!!! I live in 327 on the third floor!!!!!! I have a welcome mat outside you cannot miss it!!!!!!!!!!
I will be there at two on Friday, then.
I have a question
Yes?!!!????!!!?!?
Will the sitting be in the nude?
Of course!!!!! It is required for the project!!!!!!! But I have another project coming up next semester for another class that isn’t if you aren’t comfortable with being naked??
[Seen by Ludwig six minutes ago.]
It will be fine. I will see you on Friday.
Yayyyyy!!!!!!!
Also what is your name? You never told me!!!!
My name is Ludwig.
I’ll be waiting for you then Ludwig!!!!!!!!!<3
This was a mistake. This was a horrible, horrible mistake.
He stood outside of room 327, third floor, careful not to stand on the welcome mat that looked too intricate and precious for wiping shoes. He’d been standing there for ten minutes, and at a minute to the hour, it was nearly time for him to knock on the door, and yet he’d been frozen ever since he’d arrived.
The night before had been one of the worst of his life. He’d never been self-conscious about his body, but looking at himself naked in his mirror, he panicked over whether or not he should cover the scar on his right hip, and if he should shave his pubic hair, and his chest hair, and his leg and arm hair, or if he should just pose as he was because the whole point of the portrait was to convey someone who was human and imperfect, and then he was crying into his pillow in frustration. Gilbert was drunk with Toni and Francis in the living room, and they were loud enough that they couldn’t have heard him, but he still felt ashamed afterward. So he slipped into the bathroom and sat on the shower floor with scalding water raining down onto him and a few bottles of beer just beyond the curtain.
Somehow his feet had brought him to Feli’s door and kept him planted firmly in front of it, despite everything. He could hear Feli moving around inside - moving his things, humming a tune under his breath.
Ludwig checked his watch. The hour was upon him.
He knocked.
Feli opened the door seconds later.
“Ludwig! How lovely it is to see you! Come in, come in!” He took Ludwig by the arm and practically hauled him into his apartment. The first things he experienced were sunlight and cinnamon; brilliant afternoon sun shown in from the large living room window, shedding light on the abundance of sprawling plants around his space. They opened their leaves to Feli like he was the sun itself. The cinnamon candle burning on the coffee table was nearly used up.
Little trinkets and decorations cluttered Feli’s space almost as tightly as the plants. Little china plates in cases and glass sculptures of fawns, bright paintings of people and places adorning the walls, the largest being a portrait of the Vatican in Rome above his aged brick fireplace. His host was dressed in a thick, oversized knitted sweater and sweatpants, his hair loose and unstyled yet still framing his face like he was designed by gods. He was even more enrapturing than he remembered him being just a week ago. The comfort of Feli’s apartment almost consumed him before his panic put him in his place.
Feli was talking about the snowstorm that was supposed to hit the next day, leading Ludwig to his plush, retro couch and stuffing a cup of tea on a delicate plate into his hands. An easel was already set up by the fireplace and was complemented by little, old rickety boxes of used paints and brushes, charcoals and oils and acrylics. The sun covered every inch of Ludwig and where he sat.
“But anyway, you can get naked whenever you want! Here’s a robe, my bathroom is down the hall!”
Feli pushed a fuzzy, orange robe into his hands and scurried back to the kitchen, where a pot of water began to boil. Ludwig looked down at the robe and at his tea, seeing himself reflected back in the drink.
He took a sip and set it aside. He rose to his feet and headed toward the only narrow hallway, giving a small “thank you” as he passed the kitchen and found the aforementioned bathroom.
The world seemed to press down on Ludwig just as soon as the door closed and locked behind him. He let the robe fall to the floor, putting his face in his hands and rubbing his eyes. He forced his breaths to steady as if he were lifting, deep in, slowly out , before finally opening his eyes.
Every inch of the bathroom walls was covered in a painting that wove a story much like the ceilings of Versailles. What should have been overwhelming, the bursts of color gave Ludwig something to focus on, something to keep his feet where his body was. He hadn’t been sure what the paintings were detailing until he saw two male figures reflected in the glass mirror: in traditional Greek style was Achilles and Patroclus, the former tending to the other’s wounds.
Ludwig let out a breath he’d been holding and steadily moved his hands to his jacket zipper, running it slowly down until it unclasped at the bottom before sliding the jacket off of his shoulders. He folded it and set it aside on the closed toilet lid before lifting his sweater over his head and folding it as well. One by one, each article of clothing was removed and folded until he stood naked, transfixed on Achilles and Patroclus, wondering only how Feli’s landlord allowed him to paint all over his bathroom.
Feli truly was an anomaly. Ludwig knew next to nothing about him, but could tell that he was a man driven by his passion; Feli was someone whose hands itched until his bathroom walls were covered in the Iliad, who’s apartment didn’t feel complete until it was cluttered into the next week with reaching vines of blossoming plants. Feli was someone who chose to be warm, and good. Ludwig was certain that Feli felt his uncertainty. He’d been making some pasta dish even though Ludwig had told him over text that he didn’t need to. He functioned at a million miles per hour and still managed to slow down enough to be thoughtful of his guest.
Ludwig picked up the robe from the floor. He almost considered it belonging to a girlfriend of Feli’s, but it decidedly captured Feli perfectly enough that he knew it belonged to him. Without thinking, Ludwig pressed the collar to his nose, and inhaled a light earthy scent of hair wash. He slipped it over his shoulders and tied it in front of him not a second later.
Feli already had food dished by the time Ludwig made it back to the living room. The kitchen was separated only by an island, where Feli now grated a ridiculous amount of parmesan onto a basic plate of pasta and tomato sauce. He gave Ludwig a small smile and pushed it across the island to him with a fork.
“Eat it please, even if you are not hungry. You will be sitting for a while.” Feli turned back to the kitchen to begin wiping down the flour-covered counters. Ludwig stuffed his hands into the pockets of the robe and approached the island. He’d only been able to eat a few grapes for breakfast, and even besides his hunger, the dish smelled divine.
“Thank you,” He mumbled. His first bite led to another before he was watching Feli clean in silence while he ate.
Feli began washing the pot and utensils he’d used to cook, his back still turned to Ludwig while he worked. Ludwig began to notice the little things: as cluttered as the apartment seemed, it was clear that everything had its place; every mess had been cleaned, not a speck of dust on the countless ingredients among the cabinets and counters. The counters themselves were decorated with spice racks and fresh fruit. Every taste in the food was fresh, too, far from what he’d expect from another college student, not to mention an art major.
“I hope you like it. It was one of my father’s recipes that he made for me and my brother when we were still picky eaters.” Feli said, turning off the water to let the dishes soak. He moved to the counter to take his own plate, beginning to eat as well.
“It’s very good,” Ludwig replied, and he meant it. “Thank you.”
Feli poked around at his food, his eyes wandering along Ludwig’s hands. “Are you here permanently? Or just for uni?”
Ludwig answered, “I haven’t decided yet,” and regretted it immediately because that was something he hadn’t told anyone, not even Alfred. But then again, Feli wasn’t exactly someone he knew , just someone he’d been enchanted with for the last week.
“You’re German, no?” Feli asked.
“Yes.”
“Why not go back? After you’re done, I mean. I’ve heard Germany’s a lovely place in the springtime,” Feli said, his eyes smiling but the rest of his demeanor solemn.
Ludwig cleared his throat. “It is a long story.”
“I have time.”
Ludwig’s eyes snapped up to meet Feli’s.
“We have a long sitting, after all,” Feli smiled, taking another bite. Ludwig went to do the same and found that his plate was already empty, and that he was already quite full. He cleared his throat again and set his fork on the plate before pushing it slightly away.
“Are you here permanently?” Ludwig asked him, resisting the urge to pick at his nails.
“I don’t think so. I just wanted to study art somewhere that wasn’t in Rome.”
“Why?”
“Because all of my professors had sticks up their asses.”
Ludwig couldn’t help but snort, covering his grin with his hand not a second later. Feli smiled at his reaction. “Artists in Rome have a very specific idea about what art is, and not what it could be. I wanted to go somewhere with different ideas.”
“So you came to New York?”
“Si. But as it happens, the artists here are stuck up about modern art and reject anything that looks remotely classical.”
“So why have you stayed?”
Feli gave him a long look at that, still poking at his food as he pondered to himself. After a long few moments, he finally replied: “I guess I fell in love with everything but the rats.”
Ludwig nodded. Feli set his silverware down and took his plate. “Would you like more-?”
“No, thank you. It was good.”
Feli smiled, turning back to the sink. “Go ahead and get comfortable on the couch. I will join you soon!”
Ludwig was reminded of how horribly naked he was under his robe as he slid from his seat at the island countertop and made his way over to the couch. The worn, marmalade couch had a warm, woven blanket thrown over the back, as well as a number of pillows with stitched imagery of flowers crawling with vines. It was comfortable, but not enough for Ludwig to feel at all settled.
Feli made his way to his easel across the room with two glasses of water in hand, setting one on the coffee table for Ludwig and setting his own to the side. Ludwig drank half of it before reaching timid hands to the tied belt of the robe, hesitantly unfurling it and letting it slide down his shoulders to pool at his waist. He saw Feli steal glances as the robe came completely off, Ludwig letting it pool at the floor.
“You can sit or lay however you want. Show as much or as little to me as feels right. But Ludwig-” He stilled, looking up at Feli’s open stance and warm eyes. He twisted a pencil in his hands. “- don’t hide from me.”
Ludwig swallowed and answered with a curt nod. After a moment’s hesitation, he laid himself out on the couch, mindful to cover his groin as he arranged himself. He thought of women in renaissance paintings, languid and serene, and thought then of the Creation of Adam and how Adam lay as he reached out for his maker. Ludwig’s right leg, the furthest from Feli, was propped up just slightly, and even as his torso was aimed more towards the back of the couch, his left arm was still draped over the cushions, welcoming.
Pencil began to flow across the canvas. Ludwig could only see Feli out of the corner of his eye, but he noticed how detached Feli’s mind was from his hands: his art spun itself frantically, just barely clutching onto the lines as they formed, but his gaze was lazy and warm. The sunlight covered Ludwig, but it kissed the wisps of Feli’s hair and the soft lines of his half-open shirt.
What Ludwig had thought would be an examination of his body was more of a reciting, he quickly learned. The difference between what he thought would be and what was reality was stark: Feli looked at him only with kind, and his hands worked only with a gentleness that had never been spared for Ludwig. It was a study of the most intimate sort, and yet Ludwig felt comfortable enough under Feli’s watchful eye to relax into the cushions. He saw the artist smile at that.
“Is this the first time someone has seen all of you, Ludwig?” Feli asked, his work unfaltering.
“Yes,” Ludwig replied. He suddenly thought that he should be more reserved about such a question, or at least lie to cover himself in masculinity. But Feli had already relentlessly torn down every barrier Ludwig had put up. There wasn’t much use in hiding, he felt.
“I find that hard to believe,” Feli grinned. “All of the women at the gym stare at you. I do not lie when I say you are beautiful. I don’t know how you don’t see it.”
“I have no interest in staring back at those women. I have no interest in them seeing me like this.”
“So who do you stare at, Ludwig?” Feli’s voice was just above a whisper. Ludwig felt a flash of heat in his groin. He had him figured out. “If not them, then who?”
Ludwig’s mouth fell agape as he struggled to find words. His eyes welled with tears. Feli’s hand moved faster.
“I…you already know.”
Feli flashed his teeth in a small grin. “You know, when I was a young teenager, my grandpa would take me and my brother to the museums in Rome. I would gawk at the pretty women, but I would find myself staring at the statue of David, too.” He swallowed. “I was raised Catholic. I knew that I stared at David for too long and in all of the wrong ways. My grandpa knew. He never told my parents, because for all of the pretty women in this world, there is something so beautiful in these forbidden fruits that make men like us whole.”
He threw his pencil down and stepped back from his canvas. Ludwig held his breath.
Feli swallowed. “Your outline is done.”
When Ludwig didn’t move, Feli took the canvas from the easel and brought it to the couch for him. He didn’t think to cover himself, yet found himself flushing when Feli leant in close, shoulders brushing, as he held up the canvas for Ludwig to see.
Ludwig had never thought about his body much in terms of attractiveness. No, he saw himself only in the weights he lifted, in the calories he burned, in the straight brushed-back style of his hair and the speckless state of his clothes. He hadn’t the slightest idea what Feli saw when he looked at him until now: he saw a man, vulnerable and wanton of something he wouldn’t name, tempting all who looked at him while shielding his eyes from the sun. Ludwig refused to believe that it was what he truly was, but Feli had mapped it all out for him, had spilled all of Ludwig’s blood and secrets onto the canvas.
It was then that Ludwig felt whole: Feli’s shoulder pressed into his, a half he hadn’t known existed, that gave him all of the missing pieces. He felt fuller still as Feli set the canvas aside and smoothed a hand over Ludwig’s bicep, leaning closer, his eyes studying him in every angle he hadn’t seen from across the room.
“Have you ever been kissed, Ludwig?” He asked, tentative. Their eyes met. He desperately hoped Feli was hinting at something because there wasn’t anything Ludwig had ever yearned for more in his life than to kiss him.
“Yes,” Ludwig answered. “A girl kissed me at a party last year in a broom closet. We were drunk.”
“So you’ve never had a kiss sober?” Feli grinned in amusement. Ludwig smiled back.
“No,” He replied, and without hesitation finished, “but I’d like to.”
Feli cupped Ludwig’s face with tender hands and dipped his head to finally kiss him, fingers snaking into his hair. Ludwig couldn’t help but press back up into it, finding Feli’s arms and drawing him closer, a timid hand settling on the back of the other man’s neck. It was deep, and the grip that it had on Ludwig sent warmth flooding through his limbs, his mind only able to conjure a single word, finally . It was the most natural thing in the world. What greater purpose was there for the human body if not to hold another just as Feli held him, if not to be kissed, if not to be complete , he thought.
And there was no great realization when they finally pulled away from one another, no sudden loss, no Shakesperian tragedy. There was only Feli, and himself, and the sun setting below the windowsill. Nothing had changed. But it didn’t make him any less content.
Feli smoothed the hair that he’d misplaced and ran his eyes over Ludwig’s features. After a long moment, he asked: “Do you want to get coffee now?”
Ludwig frowned. “We should have gotten coffee before you saw me naked. But yes.”
Before Ludwig had left after seeing Feli to his door after getting coffee, the other man insisted on getting a photo with him for his contact photo, which then turned into ten, and the pictures only ceased when Ludwig reminded Feli that it was his time to go (as much as he hated to say it). Feli kissed him once more, which certainly hadn’t been the first since their sitting, and what certainly wouldn’t be the last. Ludwig felt as if his lips were bruised from how much time they spent on Feli’s, but there wasn’t a single part of him that was bashful about it.
That was, until he finally reached his apartment, and came home to Gilbert watching a romcom on the couch. He answered his brother with a small “hi” and quickly ducked into his room to set his things down. Gilbert was at his doorway a few minutes later with two bottles of beer. Ludwig accepted one without hesitation.
“How did it go with the twink?” He asked, popping the lid and tossing the opener to Ludwig.
Ludwig turned to his desk to hide his flush, taking a quick drink before working to unpack his bag. “It went well. Please don’t call him a twink.”
“Well, it’s true. You’re dating him now, aren’t you?”
Ludwig snapped around to face his brother. Gilbert paused with the bottle to his lips.
“...I think so, yes.”
Gilbert took a swig with a nod. “Gut arbeit, brohaus. There is KFC on the counter for you.”
And then Gilbert left to go back to the couch like Ludwig hadn’t just admitted to dating a man, the one thing he’d been afraid to say ever since his sexuality first dawned on him all those years ago. And Ludwig was left standing clutching his beer in the middle of his room like a weirdo.
He always imagined that, if Gilbert were to take his coming out well, there wouldn’t be any grand applause or fireworks, but he still expected more of a “I’m proud of you being able to tell me this” and “it doesn’t matter what mother or father say, brother, I will always love you.” But instead he was left with the much simpler, and arguably better situation of two siblings bearing their souls to one another before going back to doing laundry and watching romcoms instead of having any deep conversation. But Gilbert’s “good job” was monumental in itself. So much so, that when he went to sit on the shower floor with his beer in hand, he cried tears not of anguish, but of joy.
"I got an A!"
Feli flung himself at Ludwig's chest with a resounding thump to engulf him in what may have been the tightest embrace in history. Ludwig huffed and smiled into the shorter man's hair.
"That is wonderful, Feli."
Ludwig manhandled Feli out of the way of a woman passing by. As the busiest days of the holiday season drew near, the streets of New York were packed more than ever, and chaotic beneath the falling snow. Ludwig bashfully used it as an opportunity to keep Feli close as he led them inside the coffee shop.
“Happy for us! I don’t think any of my paintings can compare to my portrait of you. You made it special.” Feli took Ludwig’s gloved hand in his own.
He smiled at the ground. “Don’t say such things. What you created was all your own.”
“You can have it your way for now, but only because I haven’t had my latte yet,” Feli smiled.
“I have good news, too,” Ludwig said, leading them to the familiar table in the corner of the cafe. Feli only released the other’s hand when they sat down. “I think my brother knows that I’m gay. And that I’m seeing you.”
“He didn’t know before?”
“Nein.”
“So you came out to him?”
“Yes.”
“Well, how did it go?”
Ludwig frowned down at the table as Feli awaited an answer with a stifled breath.
“I…I think he is accepting. My brother and I, we - we don’t talk about…very personal things, so we didn’t discuss it. He thought that we were already dating before that day. I told him that we-'' Ludwig gestured between them awkwardly. “-kissed, and he just said “good job” and walked away.”
Feli reached across the table for his hand again. Ludwig allowed him to entwine their fingers. “It is a lot better than nothing. If your sibling doesn’t complain about the problem, then the problem isn’t there.”
“You have a sibling?” Ludwig asked. The voice in his head reminded him that he needed to order their drinks. And also that he needed to study for his last couple finals.
“Yes, my brother Lovino! Do you want to see him?” Feli was shucking off his gloves and pulling out his phone before Ludwig could answer, and showed him a picture of Feli next to…a man that looked exactly like him.
“A twin?”
“In everything but personality! He lives with my grandpa back home,” Feli answered. He’d talked briefly about his parents before, but he had a feeling that Feli’s relationship with his grandfather was stronger than that of his parents, given that they hadn’t died tragically in a car accident or something, he didn’t know and wasn’t going to ask. Whatever the case, he still couldn’t wrap his head around Feli having a twin. His brother had darker hair and preferred a more brushed-back style compared to Feli’s fluff, and also bore a resounding scowl, but if he didn’t know Feli, he wouldn’t be able to tell them apart.
“But anyway,” Feli said, “I’m proud of you. And you should be more proud of yourself, too. Especially with your brother. I know how hard it is.” He squeezed his hand for good measure. “I’ll get us our drinks. What did you want again?”
“Warm vanilla mocha, but you don’t have to-”
“-I want to. Consider it as payment for sitting so wonderfully for me.” Feli stood and set his stocking cap on the table, almost leaving before turning back around. “And I will also be paying you for the sitting. Thank you for reminding me!”
“I do not need payment-”
“-Too bad!” And then Feli was gone, laughing maniacally to himself as he got in line to order their drinks. Ludwig sighed to himself and pulled out his computer from his bag.
He hadn’t been able to go two days without seeing Feli after their sitting, and the other man seemed just as excited to see him again (he could tell how excited he was by the tens of exclamation marks after his texts). Ludwig’s brain had begun categorizing events in “pre and post Feli” without the consent of his better conscience, but even as everything stayed the same, he felt as if the world shifted the day Feli approached him in the gym as his weird little self. He wondered if it was obsession, perhaps love. His grandmother used to talk about destiny and fate. His science-wired mind had never believed her. But now, as he watched Feli’s ridiculously Italian hand gestures as he ordered their coffees, he was starting to reconsider.
Alfred had called him the second he’d texted about his night with Feli to shout at him over the phone, much to the digression of his poor roommate. Alfred liked to “hype him up,” as he said, but it had never felt quite as good as it was in that moment, especially when he told him that he’d kind-of come out to his brother. It made him feel a step closer to a kind of contentedness he’d never considered before. That being said, Alfred also demanded to meet Feli, who was now referred to by not only Gilbert, but also by Alfred himself as “the twink” (Feli had found that quite funny over text).
Ludwig had found someone that had changed his life in a single afternoon. He was out to his brother, and he had a support system, albeit a small one, to be there with him. For once, he was unsure of where to go - and he was fine with that.
Feli turned to look at Ludwig from the line. He smiled, and Ludwig found himself grinning stupidly back. Yes. He was fine with that.