Five Years Ago - Antonio and Ludwig meet (closed, R-18)

"Time? I have all the time in the world," Juan laughed. "Well, perhaps not that much. But, of course, what you need is what you need." He stole another kiss from Ludwig, this time on the mouth, wearing a mischievous grin. "Now...goodnight, before I really do forget myself." He let go with the reluctance of a man headed to the gallows.

Ludwig nodded, and reluctantly headed back to the living room, complete with its native torture device. He did, however, aim a glance back towards the bedroom.

Juan watched until Ludwig settled - as well as anyone could settle on that couch from hell - and then retreated back into the room. He left the door half-open, an open invitation and a lot more than that.

He stretched out in his bed and prepared to work off that frustration. With his hand. In his boxers.

Ludwig, on the other hand, rolled over, tried to get comfortable, failed miserably, and wondered if maybe the theoretical love of his life wouldn't mind if he had some practical experience under his belt (so to speak) before they had sex for the first time.

Unfortunately, the German thought to himself somewhat sourly, he was a romantic, as Juan had claimed earlier in the evening, and wanted to wait. He really did. He was sure that Juan could convince him to lose his virginity, though.

After all, what if he never met the love of his life?

Ohhhh, that was nice. Of course, not as nice as if Ludwig was the one wrapping his fingers around like - well. But it was nice. "Mmmm," he groaned. Not loudly. Not yet. But he'd been hanging on to a tiny thread of self-control for the better part of an hour, so it probably wouldn't be long.

Ludwig shifted again, found the hidden spring by virtue of it nearly stabbing him in the ribs.

The only couches that he'd ever encountered that were this uncomfortable were the ones that folded out into full-length beds.

This was just unfair.

"Unnnh" was a little louder, as he moved his hand faster. Blue eyes and that little shy smile...it nearly did him in right there. "Hnnnn..." He should stop. He shouldn't be doing this at all. Ludwig was in the other room.

That shouldn't make him harder.

It took a few minutes for Ludwig's body to manage to get comfortable, despite being unnaturally contorted, and after breathing a mental sigh of relief and willing his erection down in stages, Ludwig finally closed his eyes.

That's when he heard the moans coming from what he gathered was Juan's bedroom.

Blue eyes sprang open as he heard the sounds start to get louder.

He told himself that he should get up and tell Juan to keep it down, but it was his fault that Juan was having to deal with an erection in the first place.

He told himself that he should at least yell to Juan that he hadn't gone to sleep yet, but if he did that, he was fairly sure the next door neighbors might end up hearing him shouting, and it was rude to accidentally cause the man's neighbors to gossip about him being loud during sex.

So, he was left staring into the darkness of the living room. Listening.

Juan was too close to last long. It was a softer groan and a curse when he realized he couldn't sleep like this.

With a sigh, he climbed out of bed and stripped off the soiled shorts to toss them into the hamper. He pulled a clean pair on with a small sigh and crawled back under the covers.

When he heard movement in the bedroom, Ludwig waited until the movement had ceased.

"Are you finished?" he called, trying to keep his voice down so as to not disturb neighbors, but loud enough that Juan could hear him clearly.

Juan flushed. Well. He hadn't exactly meant to put on a show...though he supposed he had, in a way. "Yes," he muttered, loud enough to be heard. He buried his face in a pillow and wished a certain gruff teenager wasn't so damn attractive.

"Good," Ludwig replied, settling back onto the couch as best he could. He adjusted the blankets around him to try to cushion the worst of the spots, but he had a sneaking suspicion he would have to clean out Juan's linen closet in order to sleep comfortably.

"Good night," he added.

Juan didn't answer. He was already asleep.

The next morning dawned bright and warm, and Juan was up early, showered, and making breakfast by the time the sun was up. He hummed a little tune, singing in low, soft Spanish. He hoped he didn't wake Ludwig. Well, not - argh. He gave up this train of thought as useless, and concentrated on getting the tortillas just right.

It was about an hour after sunrise when Ludwig finally surfaced from his improvised nest of blankets. Blinking a few times, his usually immaculate hair had gotten ruffled during the night, and he walked towards the bathroom with the air of someone who had only had a passing acquaintance with consciousness.

When he returned from the bathroom, his hair was combed back with ruthless efficiency and his eyes were more awake, though the T-shirt and pajama pants gave him a more approachable look than before.

Bare feet padded towards the kitchen only to stop when he encountered Juan, well awake and making something that smelled absolutely divine.

"Ah," Ludwig said, feeling a bit awkward. "Good morning."

"Buenos días," Juan smiled, eyes hardly showing that he had barely slept. "Sit, sit. I'm making tortillas de patatas...a potato omelet, or something like that. You'll like it~!" He masked his own awkward feelings with bright smiles, as usual.

Ludwig hesitated before nodding and sitting down as directed. "I see. Thank you."

He watched Juan continue cooking, wondering if he was the only one of them who was feeling awkward, or if they both were.

"How'd you sleep?" Juan asked innocently. "They're almost done," he smiled at the frying pan. The paper was on the table, but it was in Spanish, of course. His only television was in the other room. He needed something to do or he'd going insane - or he'd just jump Ludwig, God, he still wasn't sure if he preferred the hair slicked or not.

"Not too well," Ludwig said. "You were right about the couch."

Idly curious, he picked up the newspaper and tried to read the front page articles. Since he'd left his glasses in the living room, he ended up squinting at the page, but it was better than having to sit at the table feeling awkward about the whole thing.

"Where did you learn Spanish?" Juan asked curiously. "You speak pretty well, for a German, I mean. Speakers of other Romance languages have an easier time with the sounds." He ended up washing dishes he'd already washed, just for something to do.

"One of my caretakers was fluent, though most of what I know, I picked up from listening to her conversations with her family," Ludwig explained. "Every once in a while, I've been sent on an assignment here, but it's usually closer to the Pyrenees, or in Portugal."

"Have you liked Spain, then?" Juan asked, genuinely curious. "I have, as I said, not traveled much." He tested the tortilla and decided it was finished, putting it on a serving plate and leaving it on the table. He cut it to a few large pieces. It was big enough for four meals for Juan, and should feed just two quite easily.

Ludwig served himself, taking a bite and nodding appreciatively. "The countryside is very beautiful. The towns have their own appeal. It's different from France and Austria, but that's to be expected." He took another bite of his omelette. "The climate is agreeable enough -- at least it doesn't rain quite as often here as it does in England."

Juan laughed a little. "Yes, we have fine weather. Are you staying for long, do you think?" he asked, now curious if he should look into buying that new couch now.

Ludwig shook his head sadly. "This is actually my second day of vacation, and then it's back to Germany. I received an email last night that I'll have a new assignment waiting for me when I return."

A sharp intake of breath, and then a little nod and sigh. "So you're leaving tonight, then? That's a shame. The city has a lot to offer turistas. Do you think you'll come back?"

It was not desperate. It was not clingy. It was the just-more-than-mild interest of a friend who liked having visitors. At least, Juan hoped that was what it was.