Chapter Text
The sun had yet to set on the horizon of these south German hills, but the sky had begun to hue in purples and dark blues, the reds and yellows of autumn welcoming its vibrant color freshly new for the day…
It was 5:00 when Ludwig's alarm rang.
He didn't waste a single second to shut it, neither a moment in bed. He stood, got his clothes from a chair, right where he had left it prepared the day before. His usual shower, brushing of teeth and the gel to slick back his hair. No time to waste on vanity, he turned and made his way down these old woodend and creaking floors and stairs. He prepared breakfast, he put that load of laundry to wash, he cleaned whatever he had left in the kitchen the night before, he made sure the TV was still on the usual channel. He began some dusting, some sweeping and it was finally 6:00.
He went down another hall and knocked on the bottom door. "Opa!" He called. The same groan would greet him, sign enough for him to open and make his presence. He helped his grandfather with removing sheets, at the same time checking if they needed to be changed and washed. Na, they were still good. He checked the trash, not filled yet so he could leave it as it was.
“Do you need help?” He would ask when he noticed it was taking far longer than usual for Opa Aldrich to reach the bathroom. He would groan out something unintelligible and wave his hands to say he could do it alone. Ludwig nodded, making sure there was nothing hazardous in the bathroom, his first batch of pills were ready and that all was in its usual place where his grandfather could pick it up from before heading back to the kitchen to prepare their breakfast. He was content with bread, hard boiled eggs and some fruit he had picked just the day before. His grandfather just wanted oatmeal and some freshly pressed juice.
It was 7:00 when Aldrich emerged from the hall and took his usual seat at the table, a newspaper magazine ready for him to start reading, plates presented, Ludwig joined him and they ate for much of it in silence. Aldrich would comment here and there on the news, Ludwig would give his short and to the point opinion and then he would pick their things to wash and put away.
“The forecast said it wouldn’t rain today, so you can sit by the terrace if you want. I have some blankets ready at the bench.” He prepared his cap, gloves, shoes, working pants, and turned on the TV for the morning news. If Aldrich didn’t sit outside with a book, at least he had the rest of the shows of the channel to look forward to for the day.
It was 8:00 when Ludwig headed out the door to start the day on the farm. Aster, Berlitz and Blackie barked loudly in greeting, rushing from their little dog houses right by the side of the large home. Ludwig took his time to greet and pet each of them before they started with the feedings.
He started with the smaller animals, like filling the dogs’ bowls for the morning, then the ducks, the chickens, the geese and the bunnies their greens for the day. Sometimes Rosalin, the largest of the geese, would follow him around expecting more.
“No. That was it.” But of course, such limits she did not understand and on she went following his same thread along with the dogs. He had long ago given up and just left her with their gang.
By 9:00 it was time to feed and check on the chickens. It was one of the animals they had the most of. He had to count to make sure they were all still there, pick up eggs, go to the little cabin by them to store eggs and check if any were ready to bring to the market or if he could use some for the night.
At 10:00 it was time to feed the bigger animals. New hay for the cows, vegetables for the pigs and fresh grass for the goats.
At 11:00 he checked on how the new calf was doing, gave medicine to those that needed it, milked and stored.
By 12:00 it was time to start the tractor and use it on part of the large fields.
He had to be honest, it was one of his favorite parts of the day. He dreamed so often as a child of doing this exactly and couldn’t help the smile that adorned his face.
By 13:00, he stopped and took a break, thinking about what he could prepare for lunch. He was glad for this autumn coolness, refreshing and even alighting his mood…and then he felt her presence, and instantly his face contorted itself to an even stronger grimace and glare. “What is it, Astrid?”
She shook and cowered in her spot, trying to figure out how he knew. “Ha-hallo, He-Herr Beilschmidt! It’s about those sheep you’re thinking of taking.”
“Oh, did your father finally make a good agreement?”
“Ye-yes, he says he can come in on the weekend to discuss it.”
“Hm…” he was getting an idea and it didn’t help to erase his annoyment. “Why couldn’t he come instead to tell me this?”
The young girl trembled the more, trying to find words and gather that courage she had been practicing with her parents that morning. “He-he had to discuss another transaction with Horst.”
“Ah, I see.” He thought that was it, that he could move along with his day and she could go on with her own…but she murmured, clearly with more to say. He sighed, cursing her parents for trying to make an impossible match with them.
“Um, my parents were thinking we could perhaps…have some cake and coffee as well when we came. We want to spend some time with Aldrich too and ask about Gilbert and see how you’re-”
“No,” he instantly denied, getting his prepared bag and making his way down the road back to the house.
For some reason she was not expecting this, taken aback, now chanting in gibberish that Ludwig wasn’t bothering to understand. “That’s-that’s rather rude, we-we do want to know how your grandfather is doing.”
“He’s doing fine. Doctor said this is the best he's been in five years. We believe it has to do with minimizing his stress levels and I want to keep it that way. So, I apologize, but any visitors right now could put that at risk. I'll talk to your father to see if he can come see him another time." And he hurried off, too far now for her to reach.
She sighed in disappointment and turned to leave, Ludwig in turn sighing in relief once he turned to notice that she was exiting the land now, back to her own family's farm just across theirs.
By 14:00 they were lunching on some leftover spätzle with a mushroom sauce.
“-according to the old songs, we are the descendants of the three sons of Mannus, and thus, we were three groups. The Ingaevones, the Herminones, and the Istaevones-”
Ludwig sometimes thought his grandfather was the only person in all of Germany that cared so deeply about the ancient Germanics. Still, it was good to listen and learn. He didn't mind him going on with his latest reads. It proved to him that he was doing all right mentally.
After a short break reading a bit of his own book, at 15:00 he was back outside. He worked what he could on the garden and yard to keep making it appropriate for autumn.
At 16:00 he began checking all the vegetables, picking any late harvest and making sure the plants were still well and ready to continue giving for the next spring.
At 15:00 he checked the small greenhouse. One of his proudest creations. He set it up all himself, being able to grow berries out of season. He even started growing avocado trees, a feat that almost made him cry with pride.
At 16:00, the skies were well darkened, still he sat outside by the terrace wondering if he had forgotten something. Once he made sure he could go back inside the house, he wished his goodnight to the dogs…and the goose… and made his way inside for the night.
His grandfather would definitely be on the TV, most of the time watching some documentary he put on the queue for him. Ludwig made sure he drank his medicine before he would start with dinner.
It was Wednesday, which meant abendbröt. It was a relief, he really didn't feel like cooking.
He placed the cheeses, hams, bread and vegetables on the table (all proud products of their farm), and called his grandfather to come.
It was 17:00 when they began preparing their slices of bread and eating, discussing the day.
"-so I'll arrange to see if Berthold can come see you on the weekend."
"Just him?"
"Just him!" Ludwig demanded it.
"You're not giving his girl the time of day."
"I'm not interested and I want to make it clear."
"Still be polite about it, Ludwig."
"Mhm."
Ludwig continued talking about how everything in the farm is looking and what's happening…the only way Aldrich could be a part of it nowadays.
At 18:00, everything was put away, the table was cleaned, and Ludwig would join his grandfather in the living room to watch whatever they felt like at the moment. That day they settled with watching some war movie that Ludwig placed on the queue some time ago.
At 19:00, exactly like always, was Aldrich's first yawn for the night, meaning he was tired and should get ready to bed. Ludwig paused the movie and suggested they could continue watching some other time. It was time to help him prepare for bed, get the temperature in the room right, covers dusted and cleaned, see if he needed any help with his shower and make sure he took his last batches of medicine.
By 20:00 Aldrich was in bed, a book in his hand which at some point he'll put to the side and then settle to sleep. It was at this point that Ludwig went over to the home PC. He started with checking emails from grocery store chains or offers for a stall for the next farmer's market at the nearest town or even at Munich or Nuremberg. He bookmarked, forwarded or replied to some. Then it was time to check on anything Gilbert related. They usually sat down to talk through camera on Sundays and went on with stories of the week, but occasionally he would send a message, a picture or even a video as was the case today. They decided mostly on sending these things through email so Opa Aldrich could see it too, since he never really learned how to deal well with cell phones, and in all honesty, Ludwig didn't like them much either. Once the video loaded, he opened and clicked play to see what his older brother was up to this time, making sure the volume wasn't too loud.
"Hey! Yo! What's up! Cooming to you here from one of the worst fucking downpours of the century!" It really was the best idea to lower the volume…Gilbert's voice was ever…the potent one.
The video showed a garage of sorts, awfully messed, disorganized…it gave Ludwig a headache. Gilbert panned the camera to a single window, so one could notice that indeed heavy rain was falling in the city. "It leaves me with no choice but to actually spend some time here in the garage. And I wondered, hey, you know, I've got nothing to do, no big projects at work, with things getting colder a lot more is closing, so guess what, I'm starting my own personal project and I send you guys the grandiose start!" The camera now shook as there was just more ruckus as it seemed Gilbert was picking between boxes, putting them all together on a center table. He moved the camera to the farthest end, so you could see him stand proudly, with a way too confident smirk…with boxes of what Ludwig thought was old and dirty junk. “Yes, I know what you’re thinking, Lud. This is all trash. Well no!” He pointed and even slammed the table. “I’m going to turn this into one of the most majestic shit your eyes have ever witnessed! You’ll tremble from amazement! They will speak of this for eternity and speak of me like they do with gods! I swear, you shall be singing my praises in no time.”
Ludwig’s only question was what the hell was he doing, and afterwards silence just came…and now Ludwig wondered if Gilbert even had an idea.
“A motorcycle,” he seemed to interrupt, as if he knew exactly what was going through Ludwig’s head. "I'm going to build a motorcycle from scratch. Gilbert brand! It's going to be amazing and I'll be flooded with offers. No, I'm not making any special prices for my family. You either give me the cash or it's gone forever!" He went and picked the camera again so the focus could be placed on his face and he could address his family properly. "So yeah, I'll let you guys know how it's going. I’m guessing I could finish it for the summer, but we’ll see! Opa! Hope you’re doing all right! And Ludwig, hope you’re doing something fun!” And the video was over and Ludwig had to let himself smile. He did miss his brother sometimes…but at least he made do even with storms in Berlin.
He checked the farm’s facebook account, uploading the last picture he took of the calf and checking on any of the notifications.
The farm was in deep silence and darkness…the only light was that of the fluorescent PC coating the living room with its old decor and old family momentums.
He looked over to the clock above the hall…21:00. He looked down the hall…no trace or sound that gave a hint of his grandfather waking. He looked outside…nothing but the trees, the flowers, the field, and in the distance, the hills and the alpine view.
"Hm, okay," he told himself.
He focused back on the PC screen, bringing the rolling chair closer and opening the incognito tab. He went to YouTube, and in the search bar wrote the name that was like magic to dust color back to him.
Feliciano Valenti.
Instantly his yellow sunshine channel popped up. Along with it were some most viewed shorts with his name. One was showing off an outfit while walking down the vineyards of his own family’s farm, another was him explaining the proper way to fertilize the ground for the best tomato harvest and then a short clip of a cover he had done to Keane’s ‘Somewhere only we know’ with a mandolino of all things. He glowed like a star and already he could hear him singing through the thumbnail. The longer videos that popped up had to do with the farm or a full rendition of a cover song or perhaps him trying his own original music.
He went to his video page to see if he had uploaded anything new since the weekend. Only two videos. Nothing farm related…he hasn’t in about a month, he noticed. But from the ones there, one was another cover video. He connected and put on his headphones, clicked and listened to his rendition of Mahmood’s ‘Sabbie Mobili’. He loved it when he sang in his native Italian and even though he only had his mandolino as an instrument, he still gave it its usual pop feeling with the way he jumped and smiled through at the end of every phrase. Ludwig grinned…he was adorable, beautiful…he had a smile that rivaled the shine of the sun. He then clicked on his next one and already couldn’t hold the pride that welled in him when he began to speak.
He was tuning his mandolino, dusting it, “sì, tutto a posto.” He faced the camera and Ludwig let himself fall breathless, as if Feliciano was staring directly at him, with a knowing smirk as if they were sharing a secret only between themselves. "Ciao a tutti ancora! It's a lovely day here in San Quirico! The kind that makes me want to sing a new song and share it with you all in the hopes that you have just a wonderful day. Julius Roma wrote to me again.” Ludwig didn’t miss the way he breathed out the name, how his eyes twinkled as he took the neck of the instrument, already preparing his fingers while settling the body against him. “The lyrics he wrote this time are about the innocence of first love and how we look behind on it. Exquisite as always and I had to create its melody as per usual. I hope you enjoy it,” he said in earnest as he began the music, and like magic it brought light just as the day that was shown in the video to this darkness.
“There it is again, earthquake on my skin,
Your voice the heat, that cracks it undone,
And there it goes again, I think I missed heartbeats,
Just because it’s you I see, oh, I don’t know,
It’s like love in grade school…”
How lovely he made it sound…he made the words into a garden…and he laid on its grass, taking the scent, lulling him almost to sleep right there.
“...first love it has to be, first you have taken this heart,
Done it is for you, take it as I give it to you…”
And Feliciano let those last words come out in his voice like a blissful wave that settled him to a deep relaxation that made him gone…closed eyes as if the lyrics turned to a love that embraced him. He breathed in and out and was disappointed to be awakened.
“This was so sweet…and I hope it was the same for you. Until next time! Please like and subscribe! If Julius Roma continues to write, then that’s more songs I can share with you all! Bye Bye! Ciao Ciao!” Adorable waves and the video was done, now only but recommendations of others artists that didn't hold at all the charm and whimsy of Feliciano.
He momentarily groaned, but looked back to the clock…he still had time.
At this point he bit his lips, he trembled wondering if he should…but he couldn't take it.
He logged into instagram, he searched for Feliciano Valenti again and there was his account. Back when he first found him, he usually just posted pictures of his scenic Tuscan farm, but after a certain point, he put the focus mostly on him. As time went on, his stylish outfits revealed more skin, more form. Hands on waist practically dancing, raising shirts coquettishly making one want more of what was there. Messed curled hair, sultry eyes, body seeming to dance for passion.
Ludwig licked his lips…hesitantly clicking on one of the links his page offered.
OnlyFans.
He got into the signing in information.
Username: Julius Roma.
Ah…there were three new pictures…and a video.
He started with the pictures.
First one, against a white wall, just a side view, shirtless upper body. It was amazing under the sunlight that came from a window that was not shown. His body was not exactly fit, neither full, he was well formed in his own, arms with only strength to pick an instrument. He looked so soft, so gentile…but then the next picture.
This one…although his center was still covered, the way he embraced that old cello, how his pink lips opened, that slight upward movement of his hips… was still as erotic as if he had been completely naked…as the third one.
Here he gave a powerful lean back, mouth in the midst of a moan, pulling tightly to a red curtain that caressed his legs in a way that made Ludwig grip his hands wishing his own hands could follow that trail.
By now, he was hard. But in seriousness, from an editing, color and shadowing perspective, these pictures were really well done…Ludwig wondered if he did them professionally…and somehow the idea of somebody present for those fueled him in anger. But what was he to expect? It was a guy he didn’t know at all, with an OnlyFans, with who knows how many subscribers. There was nothing he could do about it…but enjoy as the rest.
That's when he went for the video.
He liked how artistic they were…it just wasn't anybody laying on any dirty couch, shouting garbage in a position that looked unappealing and uncomfortable…no, it was Feliciano kneeling, rubbing himself with the red fabric. With the smile, the way he leaned back and the delight in his moans…he was enjoying himself, deeply and true. He had a way of doing so, while also making it a show, a scene that had him putting his pants down, his erection for the air and for his hands to take as he tried to copy Feliciano's own movements, from slow and sensual to quick, tightening and fast.
How he wished he could grip his wave and curled hair into the palm of his hands, pull and take a grasp of those hips to him, and with the thrusting he saw…perfection he tried to copy for himself.
Using the red curtain, Feliciano lay enough on the ground for him to be on all fours, Ludwig knowing what was coming. From some hidden fold he found the red dildo, licking all around in preparation. Ludwig couldn't hold the moan that escaped, quick to put his hand to his mouth and pray that his grandfather hadn't listened. The object went the descent and Feliciano, the cheeky one, with a wink, let it take and dive into his depths, shouting, moving the dildo at a pace that had him getting louder and louder. Now Ludwig wished it wasn't some flimsy dildo…no…he needed to take that thing's place, those movements against him, that voice calling his name. Harder and harder.
He ended up standing, his eyes yet focused on Feliciano's body, his own body jerking towards him in the midst of imagination.
"Più…più…dammi di più."
And his voice…it could have been an insult, and yet it's what always made him cave, made him shout to whatever object was nearest at the moment…this time a towel over the near couch.
The video went on with his angelic noises in the background while Ludwig had coated…this time his pants in white. At least it didn't land on the desk or the ground. He gave himself a moment of relief, taking a seat to breathe and place himself again.
"Oh dio…dio!" Feliciano continued on the screen.
Even if he was sated, he faithfully watched it till the very end. Feliciano came himself, breathing hard, smiling, sending a wink before it was over and he was left with a suggestion to tip.
At this point it was almost automatic. He had already checked the finances to know how much he could spend.
1,600 euros.
All for Feliciano.
Those smiles, the songs…it was all worth it.
He cleaned himself and put his pants back up before he continued. This time he went to his inbox, only one thread in there, Feliciano's. The last he wrote to him was that poem he made into a song. Usually he needed some time and inspiration to write, and sadly this time he had nothing. He scrolled upwards, all the way until a year ago, when he started this.
He has always written poetry, having notebooks filled with them since his childhood. He was always faced with the comment to publish…but he never felt comfortable, especially since a lot of them talked about his experiences concerning how he found out he was gay, and with this little town…not really the best suggestion. Now…his muse was another male, an Italian so far out of reach…sure that he would never have a closeness, a relationship, the only thing that made him bold enough to send them after the many he had written.
At the start, Feliciano had replied with eagerness, with so many questions and curiosities that Ludwig told himself not to give into.
There was no chance, he couldn't, they were practically two worlds apart, it wasn't meant to be anything more, he would just be disappointed by who he really was and he didn't think he could deal with that rejection. Sending him those poems was out of a maddened whim and he didn't even think he would be responded to. The only time he wrote something else other than a poem was simply to tell him that he would rather not reveal his identity, that he was just a fan that wanted to write poems for him since he was his inspiration and Feliciano had been respectful enough to keep it that way. He hadn't expected him to create melodies for them, sing them into masterpieces and have him fawning every night. The beauty, the pride, the smile he wore this late in the night…made him decide he wouldn't comment about it.
He spared a glance at the clock…it was 23:00. Time to take off his headphones, turn off the PC and head upstairs to wash up.
It was exactly 00:00 when he landed in bed, shutting his eyes, ready to do it all over again the next day, instantly starting with dreams of golden eyes and brazen curls.