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

Ludwig nodded once out of habit. "I am well. I know that we were to meet at the restaurant, but I believe I got turned around." He shook his head. "I haven't had much occasion to come to Madrid, so I wasn't sure if I was headed in the right direction. I hope you don't mind that I came here instead...?"

"No, no, not at all," Juan smiled. "Your timing es muy suerte - ah, is lucky, though. A few more minutes and I would have been taking a shower." He held up scratched and dirty hands, and smiled around another smudge of dirt on his face. The long hours in the greenhouses had made him sweaty, as well. "Wait here for a few minutes, bien?"

---

est muy suerte - is very lucky (suerte is one of several words that means lucky, but this seemed the most accurate).

bien - okay?

Ludwig blinked, and then nodded again. "Ah, I see. Is there anything else you need to do in order to close your shop for the night?" He glanced around, as if that would help him discern what he could do in the meantime.

Juan laughed a little. "Not really - though, if you could flip the sign on the door?" He slipped to a back room and reemerged fifteen minutes later in clean slacks and an open button-down over a light undershirt. His hair was still damp.

Ludwig gave the young man's clothes a cursory glance -- he was wearing a button-down short-sleeved shirt and brown slacks -- and nodded once.

"What sort of restaurant are we headed to?" he asked. "I didn't have a chance to check what kind of place it was before arriving in Madrid."

Juan thought with some amusement that if Ludwig had, perhaps he would have known where to go.

"It's nothing so special. I like their paella, is all. Also, the owner is my..." he paused, unsure how to phrase the relationship in English. "A friend of the family," he decided on, though this was not precisely what he meant. "And also family," he added, frowning. Then he shrugged. "They are good people," he said, with a great deal more certainty. "It's not far, if you'd like to walk."

---

paella recipe: http://www.xmission.com/~dderhak/recipe/paella.htm#PAELLA

Ludwig frowned at the phrasing, but mentally shrugged. Considering that he and Juan hadn't gotten to know each other all that well since they were first introduced, it would've been rude to pry, though he found himself curious as to what kind of relationship that man had with the restaurant owners.

"It is good that we can walk," Ludwig pointed out, "as I don't have a car."

Juan smiled again. "Very, good then. I only have a scooter." He let himself laugh mentally at the image of proper young Ludwig clutching his waist while they sped through the streets at a reckless 30 kilometers per hour.

A few blocks and they were there - a bustling, but homey little place. The hostess took one look at Juan and beamed, leaving her post to wrap him in a hug.

"Juanito, it's been too long," she scolded.

"Tía, I ate breakfast here," Juan shook his head with a rueful grin.

"Far too long," she repeated, with emphasis. "And I wasn't working breakfast today. Now who is your friend, hm?"

"Ludwig, this is my mother's cousin, Janina. Her husband owns this place," Juan introduced in English. "Ludwig's Español no es tan bueno," he told Janina. She nodded and made the "Oooh" sound that is at once patronizing and understanding. "Ludwig es mi amigo."

---

I'm lazy, so the yellow stuff is said in Spanish.

Juanito is a diminutive of Juan.

Tía - aunt

Ludwig's Español no es tan bueno - Ludwig's Spanish is not so good. (this translation is pretty iffy).

Ludwig es mi amigo - Ludwig is my friend

Ludwig nodded once, giving the lady a small, polite smile. "I can try to converse with you in Spanish, but I'm afraid I would butcher your beautiful language," he said slowly. He probably conjugated a verb incorrectly, but it sounded passable. "I enjoy the opportunity to listen to it, however."

***

OOC: Yay colors. All text in yellow is Spanish.

Janina giggled, charmed as easily as a schoolgirl. Ludwig's Spanish had an unexpectedly gallant, quaint lilt to it. It made him sound like a knight out of some medieval fairytale. It didn't hurt that he was handsome, Juan supposed.

"Thank you for making the effort," she said, voice honey-sweet. "Now, you boys want a table for two?" She winked saucily at Juan.

"Por favor," Juan nodded, a faint smile on his face. He took only one menu from her, since he'd memorized it years ago.

---

Por favor - please (literally, "for a favor" or "as a favor")

Janina shot Juan a teasing look before turning to the tall German. "So, how did you two meet? Your accent is unusual."

Ludwig blinked, surprised at the question. "Ah, entschuldigung-- he assisted me in finding someone." It wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't entirely the truth. The ease with which it slipped off his tongue might have been worrying once upon a time, but Ludwig had been saying such things for years. "I am from Germany, which is probably what you hear in my accent."

"Germany?" Janina looked genuinely surprised. "No wonder he's so blond! I think you got a good catch here, Juanito." She smirked. "When did you two start dating?"

Ludwig blinked a few times. "Ah, I'm sorry, I missed that?" he asked tentatively in English.

***

Entschuldigung - Excuse me (German)

Juan turned red. "Tía, it's not like that," he mumbled, clearly embarrassed. He scratched his head as he turned to Ludwig, explaining, "She thinks we're..." he had to think of the word in English, "boyfriends." He wrinkled his nose, because that wasn't quite what he meant.

"Tía, por favor nos deja sólo," he begged, voice lower in the hopes Ludwig wouldn't hear.

---

Aunt, please leave us alone.

Ludwig blinked a few times. "She thinks that we're...?" He blushed vividly.

Janina had giggled and left with another flirtatious wink, as if saying now she knew Ludwig wasn't taken, she'd be interested for herself. It was ridiculous, of course; she adored her husband. And anyway, Ludwig was too young for her.

"Ja...Es tut mir Leid," Juan said, using one of the few German phrases he actually knew.

---

Yes...I am sorry

Ludwig, still shell-shocked from the flirtatious wink, did a classic double-take when he heard Juan speak. Luckily, they hadn't sat down at the table yet, let alone drink anything, or else Juan might have ended up slightly damp. As it was, blue eyes blinked a few times.

"You speak German?" he asked with some surprise.

***

OOC: Green text is German.

"Hardly any," Juan admitted ruefully in English. "We're a sorry pair, aren't we? Neither knowing the other's language well enough to truly talk in anything other than English. You know Español much better than I do Deutsch, though."

---

Spanish, in Spanish

German, in German

Ludwig cleared his throat and nodded, looking pleased by the compliment. "It is better than not sharing a common language. I've frequently had to deal with the language barrier when a trail runs cold."

They'd been led to a table in a cozy corner -- more than likely a favorite of couples who wanted some privacy in the bustling restaurant -- but since Janina had already left to deal with some other customers, Ludwig mentally shrugged and sat down, taking the seat that allowed him the best view of the front door and windows. "Does she frequently think that you bring dates here?"

"I guess it's somewhat my fault - I frequently do bring dates here. Usually only after it's gotten a bit serious, since they would be meeting the family. Well, I did that when I was younger, anyway." He laughed a little. "Mostly because I eat para gratis here."

He considered stopping there, but decided to open up a little. "I was born in Barcelona. But my parents didn't see eye-to-eye with me on a lot of things, so I came to Madrid for secondary and haven't left. I was sent to live with Tío y Tía."

---

para gratis - for free

Tío y Tía - aunt and uncle

Ludwig frowned, not quite sure what to say. His own childhood before he was eight years old was non-existent, but afterwards, the Division had been mother, father, and siblings. There was no one person that had remained constant in his life -- most likely an attempt to make Ludwig as self-sufficient as possible in the shortest amount of time. Encountering someone who obviously still had family ties.... it made him wonder what he had missed out on from a more typical upbringing.

"I assume that you've dated men before?" he asked in a low murmur, wanting to be discreet, even though he was fairly sure that other customers had noticed their entrance. "She didn't seem fazed by the idea of the two of us dating, after all."

Juan leaned in slightly to hear Ludwig better over the bustle of the dinner crowd. "Ah, a few," he admitted. "Not many women, even in España, date a man who runs a flower shop. But I like working with plants, and if they don't understand that, then there's not much hope, is there?" He looked at Ludwig curiously. "And you? When I first met you I thought you were in your twenties, at least, but you're actually quite young, aren't you? Do you prefer the chicas or the chicos?"

---

España - Spain

chicas or the chicos - girls or the boys

Ludwig cleared his throat. "To be honest, I've never given it much thought before. I'm usually too busy tracking people to think about romance." He shrugged a little. "I can only assume that when the right person comes along, I'll know."

"Ahhhh, mi amigo is a romantic~!" Juan grinned. He waggled a finger at Ludwig mock-threateningly. "Don't think I didn't notice you dodging the other question, though."

---

mi amigo - my friend

Ludwig frowned. "I am loathe to tell people how old I truly am because being mistaken for a man in his twenties helps me to travel easier between countries." At the look Juan shot him, he sighed through his nose. "I turned sixteen this past October, but if you would refrain from telling--"

"¿Justo dieciséis?" Juan gaped, and then shook himself. "Of course I will keep your secret, mi amigo. But..." he shook his head. "Sixteen. You make me feel old. How did you get to be working for the Division so young?"

---

¿Justo dieciséis? - just sixteen?

mi amigo - my friend

Ludwig cleared his throat. Pulling out a pair of glasses, he opened the menu and read it over, familiarizing himself with anything he might like to eat.

"They raised me from the time I was eight years old," he explained. "Since they concentrated on nurturing my ability to its fullest extent, I've been able to track down the targets that my brothers-in-ability have had difficulty finding. Why waste resources if they can be used for the greater good?"