#gerameweek2018

“Ugh, fine. You’re no fun.” Alfred sits up and runs a hand through his hair.

His glasses fall crooked across his nose, and despite his best efforts to tame it, a shock of golden blond springs back up. It makes him look like a comic book character, square jaw, bright eyes and all, and Ludwig’s heart stutters in his chest. He shakes it off and forces his gaze back to his paper.

Alfred continues. “Can’t we take a break? We’ve been doing homework for hours and hours and hours. I’m going to die if I don’t stand up and kick something.”

“Don’t kick something.” He grumbles under his breath and scratches down the next equation.

“Can we at least take a quick walk? It’s good to stand up and do shit between assignments. We finished history already, so I think we deserve at least one break. Or maybe we can raid the fridge and eat something. Like those bread things your mom bought? I’m fucking hungry.”

He stares at the singular x2 on his paper, his irritation spiking as his concentration dwindles. Maybe Alfred is right. Maybe he does need a break, but he knows that if they pause, he’ll never finish at a reasonable hour.

“No,” he says.

“Jeez, okay, I’m going to take a break if you aren’t. Come find me if I don’t come back in an hour or two, or when you decide you want a break, too.”

“You better not be gone for more than fifteen minutes.”

“That’s barely long enough to take a shit.”

“God, Alfred, you’re disgusting.”

“Whatever, dude, you know you love me.”

“Just go take your break. I’m trying to be productive here.”

Alfred snorts and pushes out from the table. “Okay, okay, sorry, Mr. Straight As. I’m leaving.”

“Good.” Ludwig rolls his eyes, no real bite to his tone. “Oh, and by the way, if you eat all the snacks, I’ll throttle you.”

“Then maybe you better come with me.”

“Absolutely not.”

Alfred shrugs and saunters out of the room.

Ludwig gnaws at his lip, glancing at where he’d disappeared and back to his paper. Chips, chocolate, coke- it does sound awfully appealing, but he’d already said he wasn’t interested. Ludwig exhales in frustration, scribbling down the next step. Quadratic equations should be easy for him by now, but for some reason, his mind won’t let him factor. It’s only number twelve- less than half the assignment.

Alfred pops unbidden in his mind’s eye, grinning with all his perfect white teeth, and Ludwig throws down his pencil. He leans back in his chair and looks to the ceiling, praying to any higher power for his unhelpful problem to cease to exist. He’s stopped bothering with denial, but the more he accepts his hopeless dilemma, the more hopeless it seems to become. Alfred Jones is the most beautiful boy he’s ever met in his life, but it’s never changed the fact that he rarely focuses on his school work, eats all of Ludwig’s snacks and is, worst of all, unquestionably straight.

He erases number twelve. Five minus seven does not equal three.

By the time number twelve is completed, he's  surprised to have heard no shouting from the kitchen or exaggerated sounds of chocolate consumption. It seems that Alfred has genuinely decided to let him work in peace, and it’s almost disappointing.

He stares at number thirteen for all of five seconds before he starts towards the kitchen. Maybe Alfred is right. Maybe a few minutes of break won’t hurt after all.

When he pads onto the tiled floor, Alfred is nowhere to be found, but he’s clearly been present. New chocolate wrappers are crumpled in the trashcan, and someone’s left out a full cup of coke. He smiles despite himself. Alfred knew he’d come looking, but at least, he’d poured him a glass. He grabs it and sips, wandering towards the back door.

He pushes it open, and his eyes land on Alfred rocking back and forth in a chair on the porch. Alfred glances in his direction at the sound of the door, but he doesn’t greet him with anything more than a nod. Ludwig squints at his somber expression and walks towards him and the chocolates on his lap.

“Are you just sitting here and thinking?” Ludwig asks, reaching for a chocolate.

Alfred shrugs.

He sits in the rocking chair beside him and pops the chocolate in his mouth. Alfred stares off into the yard. Ludwig follows his gaze to the oak tree, its leaves swaying in the back and the birds chirping in its branches. The sun sends dappled shadows on the grass, and light filters onto Alfred’s face in oblong splashes. Serious doesn’t suit him, and Ludwig is quickly growing uncomfortable.

“Are you okay? Oh, and thank you for pouring me a drink.” He tries again. It’s odd to be the one initiating the conversation.

“Uh huh. Welcome.” Alfred nods, sliding the chocolates onto the table in front of them. “And I dunno. Sort of. I guess.”

“Did something bad happen?”

“No, but do you think I’m stupid?”

“What? No? You’re very smart. You only act ridiculous sometimes, but you’re smarter than me. I think school just might be difficult for you because it’s so monotonous. It’s boring for me, and I even like regimented predictability.”

“I’m not smarter than you, but thanks.” He stretches his arms above his head, rolling his ankles in little circles. “Sorry. I just got thinking, but hey, Lud, you know how you’re… gay?”

Ludwig’s heart stops for a dreadful second, his fingers going numb against his glass. Did Alfred know?

“Er, yeah. What… What about it?”

“I think I… Uh, I- How did you figure that out? This probably sounds really dumb, but how’d you know you weren’t into girls?”

“The same way you know you aren’t into men.” Ludwig shrugs, relieved to hear it’s this and not anything regarding his feelings towards Alfred. “I’m not attracted to them. I think some girls are cute. Eliza is beautiful, but it’s more of an observation than anything else.”

“But I don’t know that.”

“Of course-” Ludwig stops, his eyebrows raising. His heart flutters in his throat as hidden hopes and locked dreams rattle in their cages. He forces them down. It doesn’t mean a thing when this likely has nothing to do with him at all.

“No, I don’t know that I’m just into girls. Like I don’t know. It’s not like I want to bang when I see a good- a hot guy? But I don’t know. Does it count if it’s just one person? Being bisexual?”

He feels like he’s dying.

“It’s your identity, but what do you mean? Is this recent?”

“No. It’s- fuck, it’s, I don’t know, it’s been like this for a while now. I didn’t say anything because it was weird? Not that being… gay is weird. But it was- I don't really fucking know. I think this guy is really… hot I guess? But it's not just that. I thought for a while that maybe I just wanted to look like him or some shit, but it's like a crush? Like butterflies in your stomach whenever he smiles. I want to-” Alfred groans. “I don't know. What the fuck is happening to me?”

His throat constricts. The sun is too warm on his skin, and Alfred's blue eyes burn like sunspots through his heart. It could be him, but why when they knew so many better looking, kinder, more talented people? Why when it could be Kiku with his soft smile and witty jokes? Feliciano with his boundless energy and magnetic creativity? Ivan with his cooling presence and sharp tongue? Francis with his flamboyant confidence and effortless beauty? Too many better choices, too many easier friends. Besides, why would Alfred tell him anything if it was him?

“It sounds like a crush.” He barely registers his own voice. “Do you know if he's interested in men? Do you want to pursue him?”

“Yeah, he's not straight, and yeah, I think- No, yeah, I want to really fucking badly. I'm just scared it would ruin our friendship because I really care about him, and- I don't know, Lud. I'm so fucking confused. What would you do?”

Suppress all emotion and die, he thinks. “Is he open to dating?”

“I think so?”

Ludwig wants to take Alfred's hands in his own and look him straight in the eyes. He wants to tell him he's wanted to kiss him since freshman year, that he's never stopped wanting. He swallows down every sticky, choking feeling crawling up his throat. But he still feels sick to his stomach.

“You should ask him about his love life. If he seems open, it’s always better to tell them the truth. You can get it off your chest and move on, and if not, you can pursue it.”

“Okay.” Alfred's eyes bore into his soul. “You're single, right?”

“Yes.” And he will be until Alfred Jones exits his life.

He doesn't know which is worse: Alfred staying his closest friend and dating someone else or Alfred leaving his life forever. Both are too painful to consider.

Ludwig frowns. “This isn't relevant though.”

“Why not? Are you open to dating right now?”

Yes and no. Yes if your name is Alfred. No if you’re anyone else.

“Alfred, can we not talk about my love life?”

“Lud-”

“Who is it anyways? And why are you only telling me now?” Ludwig's heart thumps wildly in his chest, his words dropping like anvil strikes on hot iron. He can't stop. “I thought we were best friends.”

“I haven't-” His face crumples, hurt writing itself across his features. “And yeah, we are best friends! I only told Kiku, but that's because I didn't want to mess anything up with you.”

Ludwig bites his lip hard. “You told Kiku before me.”

It makes sense. Kiku is the better listener. Kiku is the better friend. Kiku gives better advice, and Kiku isn't disgustingly horrible with anything emotional.

“Lud, no, it's not like that-”

“Then what is it like? How come-”

Alfred stands from his chair and in a heartbeat, his lips are pressed against his. Ludwig's mind runs blank.

Alfred's lips are burning, his breath puffing against his mouth and his hands balled up in his shirt. Ludwig leans forward, craning his neck to meet him and slinging his arms around his neck. He tastes like coca cola and chocolate. His fingers thread through the soft locks of Alfred's hair, and he tugs him closer.

“Lud-” Alfred yelps, but before Ludwig can process what's occurring, Alfred tumbles into his lap.

He blushes bright red, his hands gripping the back of Alfred's shirt and Alfred's knee between his legs. They’re chest to chest, and Alfred is just a breath away.

“I'm sorry-” Ludwig starts.

But Alfred laughs and slides his knee up beside his other until he's kneeling on the chair between his legs. He cups his face with his hands, his careful fingers brushing against his cheekbones, and Ludwig inhales sharply.

“Wait, so do you like me, or do you just usually kiss back people who kiss you out of instinct or some shit?” His face is flushed a healthy pink, and he's grinning wide. He looks like a vision, and Ludwig's heart is threatening to beat out of his chest.

“I like you.” He admits.

“Good because you were the guy I was talking about, and it's why I didn't tell you sooner, and also, do you know how distracting you are when I'm trying to do my math homework, and you're here chewing on your lip with that cute little crease between your eyebrows, and how much it makes me want to kiss you?”

Ludwig gapes, his thoughts scrambled in an incoherent mess.

“Is this bad? Should I get off?”

“No, it's good.” He quickly amends. He runs his hands through Alfred's hair with reverent awe. He traces down his neck to his shoulders, marveling at his warmth and his weight against him, and Alfred shivers beneath his touch. He bites his lip. “It's good.”

And it is, and Alfred is staring at him like he's announced he's a real live superhero, or he's promised him a trip to the moon. He's warm and real and bright, his eyes sparkling behind his dark frames and his hair fluttering in the breeze across his face. Alfred smiles, their noses brushing for an instant, and Ludwig's stomach does somersaults in his middle.

“See. When you do that it makes me want to kiss you and never think about math again.”

“You can. Kiss me, I mean, if you want. Actually-” Ludwig sets his hands on his glasses and slides them off. Alfred blinks, and without them, his eyes go almost bluer. He’s beautiful, but he always is.

Ludwig sets them on the table to their front and smiles. “Okay. Now you can if you want.”

“Whatever you want, Lud.”

Alfred cups his jaw in his hands and kisses him tenderly. He sighs against his mouth, his thumb running along his cheeks and his chest pressed against his front. It feels like fairy dust soaking into his skin, burning at his lips and his skin and his chest wherever Alfred touches. His hands slip to his waist, and he squeezes his hips gently, the contact tingling like stars beneath his grip. It feels like stardust and promises fulfilled beneath the full moon, inexplicable joy washing over him like lapping waves on the seashore.

Alfred breaks away, his cheeks flushed and his hands settled in his hair. He laughs and turns until he's sitting in his lap.

“Can we do this more often?”

Ludwig grins, wrapping his arms around his middle and tucking his chin above his shoulder. “Only if you promise to teach me how to do that damn assignment.”

“Good. And now that we're dating, we can have more fun breaks than just stuffing our faces with junk food.”

“We're dating?”

Alfred reaches back, his hand finding Ludwig's cheek. “If you want.”

“We're dating.” He agrees.

Ludwig stills, frowning at Alfred in the darkness. His head is dropped against the wall, his tan neck bare to the world and his broad shoulders slumped in relaxation. Still, there’s an anticipation to his bearing, and as his eyes flutter shut, Ludwig can sense he’s itching to speak. He debates on how to ask for his thoughts as the silence weighs, but with him, it's always been different. Ludwig can never be certain.

Alfred opens a single eye, a brow cocked in question. “If you keep frowning like that, you’ll get wrinkles in your pretty face by twenty-five.” He arches off the wall in one smooth motion and steps towards Ludwig. “Maybe you should try something more relaxing for once.”

“Like what?” He sputters.

“I don’t know. Like kissing me instead of just staring?” Alfred shrugs noncommittally, but there’s a hint of bitterness in his voice.

It feels like a rusted knife slipping between his ribs because it's true. He wants to. He does, but this thing they have is so strange and thrilling and terrible and wonderful and beautiful and so very fragile all at once, and he doesn’t trust himself not to ruin it all. Not after every time he’s almost torn them apart. Not after every little doubt whispering at the back of his mind. Not after seeing Alfred’s easy grin at the base and feeling his ghosting fingers on his wrist at quiet dinners. Not when it means risking everything. So maybe it’s fear. Maybe he’s just a coward, but Alfred’s right. It’s well past time to stop hiding in the shadows.

“Alfred…” He starts, but Alfred silences him with a finger to his lips.

“If you’re just going to give me excuses, I don’t want to hear any more.”

He straightens as Alfred’s finger falls and struggles to keep his voice steady. “You want to know why I haven’t kissed you?” His brow draws downward, his heart thudding hard in his chest and his fingers clenching into fists at his sides.

“I don’t know. Are you ashamed because I’m inhuman? Is it because you still see me as a goddamn monster?” Alfred’s face has gone edged, the traces of hope and fear mixing up visibly on his face for just a second. “Are you scared of what they’ll say if they see us together?” It’s too long.

“No, you’re better than me.” Ludwig’s heart stutters in his chest, his ribs clenching around the words. “You’re- You’re you. You’re Alfred Jones.”

“Jones.” The word slides like venom off his tongue. It’s not aimed towards him, but his pulse still races faster at his cutting tone. “You know that’s why I was drawn to you at the start. You didn’t know about Jones, not the weight the name carries, not the money, not the glory, not Alfred Jones, the heir, the demigod, the promised. Pulling the shit you did was suicidal. You didn’t know, but you were burning. You were alive, and you had conviction. You’re still burning, but that fight's done. Now what? Ludwig, why are you really still here if we can't even touch without you running? Why are you so fucking scared of me?”

“I’m not scared of you. I promised you I’d stay. I swore it. Alfred-”

“Don't stay for promises and honor. I’m not some prize to fight for. I'm not something precious to protect.”

“I know. You’re stronger than me. Alfred, I'm here to fight by your side.”

“Please. Stop being a soldier and be human for once. I’m tired of you skipping around what you’re really feeling all the goddamn time. I just want to know what you fucking want.”

Ludwig recoils internally. The truth hits like an anvil, but Alfred voicing them in his bright voice, in Ludwig's own language, mere inches away, hurts more. He presses on, his heart rending as the gravity of what he's led Alfred to believe soaks like blood to his skin.

“I haven’t kissed you because you’re too good for me, and if I did, I- I wouldn’t be able to stop.” He feels like he's bared his soul to Alfred when he's already handed him his heart. “You are… the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re strong, brave, bold, wonderful, genius, kind. Perfect. Many other things- I wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for you. You do things to me I’d forgotten I could feel, but you’re right. I’m not a good man, and you deserve so much more.”

A silence stirs between then until Alfred speaks.

“Ludwig, you’re the most genuinely fucking good person I’ve ever met. Misled in the beginning, yeah, but…” Alfred frowns. “So you have wanted to kiss me then.”

“Of course I’ve wanted to. Every time you look at me.” Ludwig whispers, his voice hoarse.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He says.

“Alfred, I’m not beautiful.” He flushes down to his neck.

“Yes, you fucking are. You’re beautiful. You’re stubborn as hell, crazy brave, way too fucking smart, but you’re so good. You’re too good to me, and yeah? Yeah, you make me feel like I’m on drugs all the damn time, and yeah, every time I look at you- me, too. I’ve wanted to take your beautiful face in my hands and kiss you since that first night by the bay.”

“Then why haven’t you?”

Alfred steps up, bringing them chest-to-chest. Ludwig can smell the scent of wood smoke and warm pie Alfred carries beneath the sweat and grime the streets pile on a man. He can see his lashes against his cheeks every time he blinks and feel their foreheads nearly brushing.

Alfred looks him straight in the eye, cupping his cheek with one hand. “I’ve tried, but every time you pull away, so I stopped. I thought you still hated me deep down. You know you don’t talk much? You’re so damn hard to read.”

“Do I look that angry?” Ludwig mutters, his thoughts scrambled as Alfred’s warmth seeps into his own skin. Alfred is his sun- life-giving but dangerous, and when he'd tried to stay away, he’d always wandered back beneath Alfred’s warm rays.

His eyes light on Alfred's lips, pursed to his front. It would be so simple to lean in and kiss him. He’s imagined it a thousand times, dreamed of it a thousand more, but some invisible force seems to stop him as the opportunity presents itself.

“Sometimes. But hey, tell me, Ludwig, have you ever been kissed before?” Alfred leans in, his breath tickling his ear as he murmurs in soft, caressing tones.

“Of course.” He huffs softly, his hand finding Alfred’s arm, unsure of what to expect.

“But it was you, wasn’t it? You kissed them?”

“Yes.” Ludwig breathes as Alfred moves back, his blue eyes fixed solely on him.

“I think we should change that. What do you think?” Alfred hums and slides his hands down to Ludwig’s hips. His touch tingles across his body, setting starbursts off in his mind and burning holes in his reason.

Ludwig’s heart stops in his throat. It shouldn’t be like this. They should be out on a mountain lake, the heavens reflected across the glassy water and the moon a clean white. They should be far from this war and this mission and these impossible attempts at survival where few have succeeded. Alfred deserves so much more than a dirty warehouse and the tension of higher-ups conversing in the next room over. He deserves someone so much better, but he’s chosen Ludwig, a defected enemy footsoldier, and touched him with more than just his confidence and his swagger. Alfred touches him like he’s priceless, like he’s worth more than every precious stone beneath the earth, like Ludwig could speak and he would unquestioningly follow, like Ludwig is the only person in the world.

He rests his hands on Alfred’s shoulders.

“Kiss me,” he says. Even if this can never last. Even if nothing makes sense anymore. Even if you make me feel like I’m burning. Burning but happy. Happier than I’ve ever been before.

Alfred kisses him.

His lips catch his, and his hands slide behind his thighs. It feels like the starry night is reworking itself through his mind, a thousand stars dying and birthing at each brush of Alfred’s hands over his legs. Before he can think, Alfred has picked him up, his lips smiling against his and a breathy sigh escaping him as he tugs him against him. Ludwig flushes deeper, too aware of Alfred’s smiling lips on his, the scent of homemade pie on his skin and the touch of his hands on his thighs lifting him around his waist. He loops his arms around Alfred's neck and hooks his ankles behind him, giddy at the sensation of Alfred at his chest, at his legs, at his lips. Of Alfred as his everything.

“Ludwig.” Alfred hums against his lips, the syllables sweetened with the tone of intense adoration, and Ludwig falls all over again. He’s too good for Ludwig. Too beautiful. Too bold. Too bright.

Ludwig exhales against him, making no complaint as Alfred walks them against the wall. He runs his hands through his hair and lets Alfred envelope him. Every touch, every breath; he’s drowning against the heated, swollen lips of a godling prince, but this is what he’s wanted all along.

Alfred lingers, pausing in his movements.

“Jones.” Someone clears their throat behind them.

Alfred turns slowly, loosening his grip on Ludwig's thighs.

Ludwig unhooks his ankles and slides down to his feet, Alfred's hands still resting on his ass. He blinks as Lukas Bondevik comes into focus and immediately, stumbles back, his hand brushing back his disheveled hair and a deeper flush rising to his cheeks.

“Glad to see you found a way to entertain yourselves.” Lukas deadpans.

Alfred grins, slipping his hand in Ludwig’s back pocket. He marvels at Alfred’s easy recovery as he himself stands beneath Lukas’ exasperated gaze and wishes the earth would swallow him up and never again let him see the light of day.

“We sure as hell did,” Alfred says with still too much composure for a man who’d been kissing him senseless mere seconds before. “Are we ready to leave?”

“Ready enough,” Lukas waves a hand and turns sharply on heel, a fond tiredness soaking through his tone. “I’ll meet you two outside.”

Ludwig watches him go, still mortified, but before he can voice any shock or admonishment, Alfred is leaning over to kiss him chastely on the lips before striding off towards his mentor.

“Come on! We’re going to be late.”

Ludwig pinches the bridge of his nose and hurries after, wondering what in the world he’s gotten himself into.